


Seventh Circle

by GoingInside



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: AU, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/F, Gen, SOLDIER!Tifa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-02 02:10:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14534409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoingInside/pseuds/GoingInside
Summary: A past tragedy leads to Tifa Lockhart being the one to leave Nibelheim and join SOLDIER. Can she shoulder the burden of the one who should have been in her place? SOLDIER!Tifa AU (Five Years Ago: "It's been a while since you've been home, right? So how does it feel?" He smiled faintly. "I wouldn't know. I don't have a hometown.")





	1. Violence Against Neighbors I: Bombing Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I suppose this is the writer's curse. Being hounded by some utterly random idea until one is forced to write it and work it out. This particular experiment is based on a single picture I ran across randomly one day. Just look up "Tifa Lockhart SOLDIER" as an image search and it should be one of the first things you see. I began to ask questions: Why would such a thing happen? How would it affect the story? How would it affect the character? And before I knew it, I was tracing a line through the entire game.
> 
> There are a million other things I should be working on. Instead I started this. Enjoy.

_"... Death, volent death, and painful wounds / Upon his neighbour he inflicts; and wastes / By devastation, pillage, and the flames, / His substance. Slayers, and each one that smites / In malice, plund'rers, and all robbers, hence / The torment undergo of the first round / In different herds..." - The Divine Comedy (Hell or the Inferno) Part 5, Canto X, by Dante Alighieri_

* * *

 

The Mako fumes were thick tonight, wreathing the faint stars in a smoky haze. Those bright motes of far light floated above Midgar, distant and placid, a stark contrast the noisy, bumpy freight train below the ex-SOLDIER's booted feet. Glowing eyes looked up at the colorful lights, which shone blue, red, yellow, purple… like materia stones placed in the void by some impulsive deity.

Dropping their gaze, the ex-SOLDIER saw the massive, smoking structure growing larger ahead of the train as they approached. The Shinra logo was painted in huge blocky forms, marking Mako Reactor 1 as the property of the company. Like so many other things in the world. _Like me_.

As the train pulled closer to its destination, it began to slow. The Ex-SOLDIER shifted the Buster Sword, redistributing it's still-unfamiliar weight across their shoulders. Most people could never wield such an oversized weapon, certainly not with any real effectiveness, but the Mako infusions given to SOLDIER increased their strength enough to make using the sword a devastating possibility.

With a long, drawn-out screech and a shower of sparks from the metal wheels, the freight train ground to a halt. From their current vantage point, the ex-SOLDIER could see two members of AVALANCHE leap off the vehicle before it had fully stopped. A pair of Shinra soldiers guarding the platform started at the unexpected intrusion. One guard attacked the nearby male terrorist, who neatly threw the uniformed soldier over his shoulder. The other attacked the red-headed girl and was rewarded with kick to the stomach fierce enough to send the soldier flying back to the ground. He did not move again.

A third AVALANCHE terrorist stumbled from the train. A chubby male who did not look cut out for this line of work at all. Their leader – Barret – was the complete opposite, a strong built dark-skinned man with a gun grafted onto his arm. He jumped out from between the engine and first car, large and in charge. Barret glanced up at where the ex-SOLDIER stood and gestured impatiently with his gun arm.

 _I hesitated_ , the former SOLDIER thought. _Stupid._ Making up for her earlier lapse, she vaulted from the train car and landed acrobatically. For effect, she threw back her long, chocolate hair as she straightened.

"Yeah, yeah, impressive," Barret grumbled. "But this ain't no fashion show. Follow me, newcomer."

The woman rolled her glowing crimson eyes. Whatever. She didn't need to be friends with the big man to earn her fee. And she'd show him not under-estimate her just because she was a woman. The four AVALANCHE operatives had already disappeared around the corner, and the woman followed at a fast jog. Two figures appeared from the corner, Shinra soldiers. The woman didn't hesitate this time. She drew the Buster Sword and swung it laterally without slowing her forward motion, bisecting the two grunts before they had even lifted their weapons.

 _There goes any possibility of me rejoining the company_ , she thought with a grimace. The flicker of regret lasted only a moment. Her recent memories of the Shinra military weren't pleasant ones. These two were only the start of her efforts to even the score.

Climbing the stairs at the end of the platform, she found the three AVALANCHE members – sans Barret – crouching at the North entrance of the facility. The two men stood guard while the girl worked to open the thick door.

The athletic-looking man turned to her as she approached, a grin appearing on his face. "Neat work. You were a SOLDIER, all right. AVALANCHE was lucky to find you."

"SOLDIER's the enemy," the red-head – Jessie – reminded her compatriot Biggs. "I don't know what she thinks she's doing here with us."

Biggs lifted his hands palms out, throwing an apologetic glance at the dark-haired woman. "Hey, hey, wait a second. She used to be SOLDIER, but not anymore. Now she's one of us, right…" He fumbled for her name, which he'd clearly forgotten.

She didn't even look at him, her crimson eyes fixed on Jessie's continuing work. "Tifa," she said shortly.

"Right! Tifa," Biggs repeated. "My name's – "

Tifa shook her head. "Don't even tell me. I don't want to know who any of you are." She speared Biggs with a glare. "And I'm not 'one of you'. As soon as this job is over, I'm gone."

Heavy footsteps came from the right and Barret rushed up, angry as he always seemed to be. "What is this, a goddamn tea party? I told y'all not to move in a group. Now get going to the North Mako Reactor. We'll meet up on the walkway out front." He paused long enough for Jessie to finish her work and the heavy door ground open. "Move!"

His three flunkies rushed through the door. Tifa made to follow, but Barret held out his gun-arm to block her path. His broad, bearded face peered over his shoulder to catch her eyes. "We're paying you good money to help us out, but don't think for a second I trust you, ex-SOLDIER. I don't give a damn how highly Johnny recommends you." With that, he charged off.

The long-haired warrior watched him go, her lip curling down into a grimace. "Great idea, Zack," she mumbled under her breath. "'Let's be mercenaries', you said. 'It'll be fun', you said." She let go of her annoyance with a huff of breath and ran off after the group of eco-terrorists.

She wound through the lanes and avenues snaking around various support structures built around the towering reactor, which seemed to lean over her and threaten her with its bulk. In gaps between the buildings, she caught occasional glimpses of the others finding their own path through the shadows to their destination. The group met up at a fork on a narrow catwalk built in front of the Mako reactor. One branch led to plate section adjacent to this one, Sector 8. The other led into the power plant. Barret gestured to the fat man – Wedge. With a nod, the overweight terrorist took up his spot guarding the path to Sector 8. The remainder of the group dashed into the maw of the reactor. Tifa hesitated only a moment before following.

They were a ragtag group, but AVALANCHE had at least planned their assault well. The five of them had arrived during a shift change, explaining the relative lack of patrolling soldiers. It wouldn't last forever, though. Someone would discover the bodies of the Shinra grunts cooling next to train and the alert would go out. Tifa hoped they would finish the job before then.

The terrorist trio was waiting by another locked door, Barret standing with arms crossed, glaring at her. "You ever been inside a Mako reactor before?" Tifa gave a nod, not trusting herself to elaborate. Images flashed behind her eyelids: the body of her father, a long sword, silver hair, Jenova. She clenched her fists, forcing the memories back. The big dark-skinned man didn't seem to notice her internal turmoil. "Well here's the deal… Mako energy is being harnessed all over the Planet. People in Midgar use even more than people everywhere else."

The red-eyed warrior lifted one hand to stifle a yawn. Bad move. Barret leaned forward, angry, his one remaining hand closed into a big fist. "It's the lifeblood of this planet, Tifa! And the Shinra keeps sucking the Planet's blood with these fucked up machines like some kinda' corporate vampire."

"If you're trying to win a convert, you can save your breath," Tifa said, unmoved. "I'm not here for your cause, I'm here because you're paying me."

"And you damn well better be worth it," Barret snarled. "'Nuff of this. You're coming with me. Biggs!" he called over his shoulder. "Get this door open." Silently, Biggs did as he was ordered. Jessie did the same to the next door and led the way to a nearby elevator. Tifa, Barret, and Jessie each picked a corner of the small box, and Jessie pointed to the control panel near where the ex-SOLDIER had chosen to stand. Tifa pressed the button and the elevator began to descend, deep into the ground where it was easier to extract Mako energy.

Barret was still seething, his arms crossed again, glaring at the crimson-eyed woman. "What do you think'll happen if the Shinra processes all the Mako energy? That'd be it for the Planet."

"It's above my paygrade," Tifa said, glancing away. She remembered the Nibel mountains near her home. Her mother had once told her they were green and fair, covered with lush pine trees. The only way the ex-SOLDIER had ever seen the peaks, however, was bare and empty of natural life, looking more like broken and rotted teeth. The transformation had happened after the Mako reactor had been built. She wouldn't admit it, but the big man might have a point.

"Money ain't no good on a dead planet," Barret reminded her.

Tifa's mouth quirked in a sarcastic smirk. "I'll keep that in mind. For now, all I care about is getting out of here before security finds us."

The big man turned away, shaking with rage at her lack of concern. The elevator came to an abrupt halt, causing Jessie to stumble into the nearby wall. "Let's go," Barret growled. "Jessie, you're coming with us."

The red-head looked confused. "Don't you want me keeping our escape route open?"

"I'm more worried about putting the mission in the hands of some rookie," Barret said, inclining his head to indicate Tifa. "I want you to keep an eye on her. Hold her hand if she needs it."

A hard laugh burst from the ex-SOLDIER's throat. "Sorry I'm not what you hoped for," she said with a cold smile. "I'm not a man, and I'm not falling for your party line. Too bad." She stepped forward to jab a finger into the big man's barrel chest. "But you'll eat those words before this is over, and you'll realize you got me here at a bargain." She swept through the opening elevator doors, her long hair billowing out behind her.

She kept a tight hold on her righteous anger, needing the steel it put into her spine. As soon as the doors had opened, the Mako smell – already strong – assaulted her senses, nearly making her ill. The long scar tracing from her left shoulder to her right hip itched and ached.

"Phew," Jessie said from behind her. "It's like a physical presence."

Tifa glanced over shoulder at the red-head, who was jogging to keep up with her long strides. Barret was bringing up the rear. The ex-SOLDIER didn't respond for a moment, struggling between her desire to stay aloof and her need to give vent to the feelings and memories the stench of the power plant gave rise to. The two descended a long staircase leading even further into the bowels of the earth under Midgar. "I hate this smell," she said at last.

"Well it's your company making it," Jessie said, her tone challenging.

"They're not 'my' company," Tifa bit out. "I have no more love for the Shinra than you do, believe me."

"You're wearing their uniform."

Tifa glanced down at her clothes; sleeveless cerulean turtleneck and pants, accented with metal and leather. The crimson eyes shifted to the slightly shorter woman now marching alongside her. "If I wasn't, would you all still have hired me?"

Jessie's shoulders hunched slightly, but she didn't answer at first. "Probably not," she admitted. "You don't really look suited for… things like this."

"And how do I look?"

Another hesitation. "Like a barmaid," Jessie said meekly. Tifa actually barked a laugh at the answer. "Well, I mean… if barmaids had biceps like yours." The ex-SOLDIER looked aside to see Jessie staring at her upper arms and felt her cheeks warm a bit.

"Lifting a sword like this'll do that," she explained lamely to fill the awkward silence, one hand raising to close around the deceptively narrow hilt of the Buster Sword.

"I bet," Jessie snorted. "And about a million push-ups, I'm guessing."

Tifa didn't quite smile. "Something like that." As they approached another sturdy iron door, there was a commotion from behind them, past the stairs they had just finished descending. A pair of grunts and… "A sweeper!" the ex-Soldier growled, fixing her red gaze on the bulky robot. It was roughly human shaped, but it's headless, rectangular body was hunched forward, supported by reverse-articulated steel legs and framed by two boxy arms. The arms were the dangerous parts, each one housing a gatling gun capable of pumping out over a thousand rounds a minute.

One of the Shinra soldiers charged to attack. Tifa didn't even bother to pull the Buster Sword free, she simply closed the distance and punched the guard in the face. He staggered back, hands raising to his bloody, broken nose, and the long-haired warrior followed up with a roundhouse that sent the uniformed grunt spinning off into the darkness under the stairs.

 _Just like Zangan taught me_ , Tifa thought with a surge of pride, an emotion quickly buried under melancholy. She turned back to the sweeper, which was lifting its arms to fire the built-in guns at her. Before it could attack, however, it was showered with a hail of bullets from above. Tifa glanced up to see Barret leaning over the railing of the stairs, firing down at the robot, cursing all the while. The ex-Soldier drew the massive sword hanging over her back and lifted it over her head, leaping towards the sweeper. Barret stopped firing as she approached, giving her an opening to slice down with her blade, cleaving through the joint between body and arm. That limb dropped to the floor with a clang.

It was still active, already turning to bring its other arm to bear. Tifa jumped back, opening some space between herself and her opening, lips tightening in annoyance at the persistent machine. She didn't bother to raise her sword again, choosing instead to run her thumb over the green stone placed near the hilt, activating the materia and channeling its energy. Static caused strands of lusciously dark hair to float around her face as a lightning bolt tore through the dark cavern of the reactor, striking the sweeper and detonating it. Tiny bits of stinging debris struck Tifa's exposed skin, but she barely noticed, already turning towards her final opponent.

Jessie was grappling with the remaining soldier, staying too close for the guard to use his machine gun, striking with hands and feet when she had an opportunity. Even as Tifa approached, the Shinra grunt shoved the red-head away, lifting his firearm to mow the terrorist down. There was a burst of gunfire. Jessie winced, but it was the soldier who fell, shot from behind by AVALANCHE's leader.

"You two all right?" Barret asked, stomping down the remainder of the metal stairs.

"Just… fine," Jessie said between deep breaths. Tifa just nodded.

The big man considered the ex-SOLDIER with a critical eye. "Okay, I guess you're pretty strong, after all," he said grudgingly.

 _For a girl, you mean_ , Tifa thought, keeping herself from rolling her eyes with an effort.

They descended into the depths of the power plant together after that, climbing down ladders and walking on exposed pipes to reach the lowest catwalk at the heart of the reactor. Before them was a dead end, the path terminating in a pressure valve that Tifa knew was the main artery through which the Mako energy flowed up to be processed in the plant proper.

"Okay," Barret said, rubbing the fingertips of his left hand together eagerly. "If we set the bomb up here, this whole place ain't gonna' be nothin' more than a hunk of junk." The big man nodded to Jessie. "Plant it." The red-head grinned and knelt at the base of the pressure valve, producing the explosive device from the pack on her back.

Tifa turned away from where the terrorists went about their business, checking to make sure no one was approaching. A gasp slipped from her lips. Standing on the path just in front of her was a little boy of about eight or nine with spiky blond hair. The ex-Soldier brought a hand up to her palpitating heart, feeling heat behind her eyes.

_\- Be careful… this isn't just a reactor! -_

"I know," Tifa said, her breath shallow.

"Who're you talking to?" Barret asked from behind her, making her jump and glance at the big man. "What's wrong?"

The dark-haired woman shook her head, turning back to the catwalk to find… no one. The boy was gone. "It's nothing."

"I'm finished," Jessie crowed, rising to her feet. "Now let's get the hell out of here before – "

Even as she spoke, red warning lights began flashing and an alarm klaxon hooted through the structure.

"Watch out," Barret said, bringing his gun-arm up defensively. "Here they come…"

* * *

Minutes later, it was over. Tifa stood triumphant over the remains of the Guard Scorpion robot Shinra had set to protect this reactor, Buster Sword hanging from one hand. She was still shaking from the adrenaline rush, but she was otherwise unharmed.

The same couldn't be said of Jessie, who had taken a bullet to the thigh. She leaned heavily against the guardrail, leaning over to bandage the bleeding wound. The ex-SOLDIER approached while Barret covered them with lifted gun-arm, wary of additional security. Tifa knelt to examine Jessie's condition. Crimson eyes glanced up at the red-head, who was pale and sweating. "Can you walk?"

Jessie grit her teeth. "Not fast enough. There are only a few minutes before the bomb goes off." She took a deep breath. "Go on, I can't make it like this."

"Ain't no way," Barret said over his shoulder. "We're all gettin' outta' here together."

Tifa gave a firm nod. "He's right. We're not leaving you behind." She flashed a quick grin to the wounded eco-terrorist. "Time to put those biceps you like so much to the test."

Color returned to Jessie's cheeks at those words. "Wait, what're you gonna… whoa!" Before the red-head could object, Tifa scooped her up in her strong arms, cradling her like a child. The shorter woman let out a hiss of pain. "Hey, watch your hands!"

"Sorry," Tifa said. "This probably isn't going to be a smooth ride." With that, they were off, Barret leading the way, Tifa jogging behind with Jessie in her arms. They climbed back out of the Mako reactor's heart without too much difficulty. The few remaining guards seemed more panicked by the strident alarms than angry, and the few who did try to stop them found themselves on the wrong end of Barret's gun-arm.

They reached the relative safety of the elevator and the big man slapped the "Up" button with more force than necessary. The car began to rise, not nearly fast enough for Tifa's taste. The sound of their heavy breathing filled the small box. "How are you holding up?" the ex-SOLDIER asked her charge.

Jessie mustered a weak smile. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"Afraid I'm going to drop you?"

The smile faded. "I'm slowing you down. You should have left me."

Tifa shook her head. "We'll make it. Be strong."

After what seemed a small eternity, the doors slid open again. Biggs was waiting on the other side, his eyes widening when he caught sight of Jessie. "Shit! is she…?"

"She's fine," Barret snapped. "But we won't be if you don't get those goddamned doors open!"

Biggs was frozen for a moment longer, then he turned and tapped in the code to open the security doors leading back outside. They all charged out together, Tifa still cradling the wounded red-head. Ahead of them, the reactor's exit yawned open. "How much longer?" Barret shouted over his shoulder.

"Two minutes, maybe?" Jessie said, holding up the corresponding number of fingers. Their feet pounded against the metal of the bridge, making for the fork that would lead them to Sector 8. Even as they reached the intersection, there was a series of concussive booms behind them, and the entrance to the power plant belched flames like a huge dragon roused from slumber into enraged wakefulness.

"Goddammit!" Barret howled.

They ran faster, outpacing the flames, diving through the door being held open by Wedge and away from the building explosion. The chubby AVALANCHE member closed the divider, mumbling prayers under his breath just as the detonation reached its peak. Even through the thick barrier, the noise was overwhelming, making Tifa's ears ache. A blast of heat and a shockwave of displaced air kept them all pinned to the ground.

Silence followed. Then a single word.

"Oops," Jessie said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You know... the damnable thing is that this was actually really fun to write. Why can't my attempts at doing original fiction be as fun?
> 
> Anyways, I don't know how long I'll go with this. The intent as far as the story is concerned is that it would not be a one-to-one retelling, but it would diverge from the events of Final Fantasy VII and become its own thing... to an extent, at least. Still, that's a lot of material to cover and, as I said, there are other things I should be doing. I guess it depends on how I feel and the kind of reception this gets. We'll see.
> 
> The Dante quote is a bit pretentious, but when searching for a fitting name for this story, I realized the Seventh Circle of Hell is actually quite relevant to Tifa's mindset in this reality. So l figured "Why not? Let's art this thing up!"
> 
> Oh, and... yeah, the momentum of this story leads to it being a femslash piece. Fair warning.


	2. Violence Against Neighbors II: A Flower Grows in Midgar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Like I said before, this one has been a lot of fun to write, so already time to post another chapter. Not many views yet, but that's okay, we're just getting started. For those of you who are reading, I hope you're enjoying the story so far. I'd love to get some comments, questions, whatever.

"One less reactor sucking up Mako energy," Biggs said, gazing up at the ceiling of the cramped tunnel the five of them were currently trapped in. Their path to Sector 8 was choked off with debris, forcing Jessie to improvise an explosive suitable for clearing the tunnel… preferably without incinerating the group. The red-head was sitting at the foot of the pile of stone and garbage, wounded leg stretched in front of her, fiddling with the device in her hands. The rest of them stood a way back, wary after the premature detonation of Jessie's last bomb.

Wedge nodded, barely visible in the dim glow of Jessie's penlight. "Right!"

No one else said anything. Tifa leaned against the wall of the tunnel, heedless of the uncomfortable lump of the Buster Sword against her back, arms crossed under her breasts. Behind her eyelids, whenever she blinked, she could see the fire and the damage caused by AVALANCHE's bomb. It had been far more powerful than she had imagined. She could sense the others were also taken aback by the destruction they had caused.

The ex-SOLDIER felt a twinge of guilt, but she smothered it by recalling Nibelheim burning to the ground, by remembering Zack – his chest a mass of bullet holes – breathing his last on the plateau near Midgar, by reliving her long, lonely imprisonment, exiled to a transparent tube for five years while Shinra scientists did experiments on her. No. The score was far from settled. The Shinra still had much to account for.

"Okay," Jessie said from where she sat. "I made this one so the force of the blast will project out instead of, you know… burning us to a crisp." She pulled at the debris, trying to find leverage to get back on her feet. Before Tifa could react, Biggs was at the red-head's side, helping her stand and limp further down the tunnel. The dark-haired young man threw a glance at Tifa as if to warn her back, and the ex-SOLDIER shrugged. "Close your eyes and plug your ears," Jessie said.

Even through her hands, the sound of the explosion was loud in Tifa's ears, but – aside from a rush of heat – no damage was done. More importantly, the tunnel was now open. They leapt through the circle of flame marking the exit one at a time, Biggs still insisting on carrying Jessie rather than allow Tifa to touch her again.

Barret glared around at his crew to assess their condition. "Let's get out of here. We'll take the train back home. Biggs, stay close to Jessie." Biggs nodded at the big man while Jessie looked away. The three AVALANCHE members moved off, and their leader made to follow.

"Hold on," Tifa said, raising a hand to stop the dark-skinned eco-terrorist. "Job's over. Where's my money?"

"You think I carried your pay with me into the reactor?" Barret sounded annoyed. "We'll square up back at the hideout." He ran off before she could argue.

_Typical_. His excuse was logical, but Tifa was eager to disengage herself from AVALANCHE as soon as possible. She had already spent too much with the group as far as she was concerned and she had no wish to extend the relationship. If she stayed, she ran the risk of befriending one or more of the eco-terrorists, and that was something the ex-SOLDIER couldn't allow to happen.

Her friends tended to lead very short lives.

Nothing for it. She shrugged and followed the burly man deeper into Sector 8.

* * *

One minute, Aerith Gainsborough had been strolling down LOVELESS Avenue on her way to the train station, a basket of flowers under one arm, and the next, the evening sky had lit up like daytime as an immense fireball appeared from the direction of Reactor 1. For a moment, all the old fears – the result of a lifetime spent beneath Midgar's upper plate – had returned in a rush… the sense of the open sky reaching out to consume her, to suck her up and swallow her in its endless vastness. The first few seconds were eerily quiet, the other pedestrians stopping in their tracks to gaze up at the spectacle.

Then the sound of the explosion reached her. Windows shattered and the plate shook as if it were about to drop onto the slums below. The screaming started soon after, terrified voices rising above the ringing in her ears. People began running in all directions, though Aerith wasn't sure where they thought they would go or what they would do. The panic was contagious, however, and – if she hadn't been paralyzed with uncertainty – she might have joined their purposeless flight.

As the fireball faded to a red glow behind the plate divider, her initial alarm receded though it didn't disappear completely. What had happened? Her natural curiosity eclipsed the lingering fear. Should she investigate? It would be foolish… who knew if there would be follow-up explosions. This wouldn't be the first time Midgar had been attacked. Even as the thought formed, a smaller blast made the ground beneath her booted feet tremble.

Nonetheless, Aerith took a few tentative steps towards the border, staring past the scattering citizens in the direction of the explosion. A frantic pedestrian who she didn't even see coming slammed into the slender flower girl, knocking her onto her backside. She grimaced, rising to her feet with unconscious grace and a small sigh, brushing off the pink dress and rose-red bolero jacket she wore. She raised her head and saw…

Her heart seemed to freeze in her chest. At first, only colors and shapes registered. The uniform and the sword, partially covered by a long mane of dark hair. But it wasn't him. It wasn't even _a_ him. The woman was striking, dangerous looking despite her feminine figure; long legs and a bust the most petty part of Aerith couldn't help but envy. Her toned arms and the huge sword on her back put the lie to any thoughts of delicate womanhood, however. More than anything, though, what Aerith noticed most were the eyes… glowing crimson eyes.

She knew that glow. And the uniform. And the sword.

The flower girl took a hesitant step forward as the other woman approached. "Excuse me," she said, struggling not to stutter, flashing a nervous smile. The question she meant to ask died on her lips, a casualty of an uncharacteristic awkwardness. "Do you know what happened over there?" She asked instead, lifting a pale hand to point in the direction of Sector 1.

Red eyes narrowed a moment, pink lips parting in surprise or uncertainty. Aerith shivered as the unsettling gaze considered her, flicking down and up again. Then a brief quirk of her mouth. "Not sure. It surprised me, too." The woman looked down again, staring at the basket Aerith still clutched against her side. "I've never seen flowers in Midgar before," she said, her voice softer now, almost wistful.

It was true. Aerith had never had competition for her flowers, either above the plate or below it. That didn't make business any easier. Most of the people in Midgar had no regard for living things, no matter how rare. Her customers were either recent transplants longing for some reminder of color and life to provide contrast to the eternally muted and worn-down city, or the occasional native fascinated by the novelty of a plant not meant to be eaten.

She had the feeling the uniformed woman was more in the first camp than the second. Aerith lifted the basket a bit to allow the other to get a better look. "Do you like them? They're only…" her voice caught. Ten gil was the normal cost, but she made a snap decision. "One gil."

"Well it's hard to say no at that price," the dark-haired woman chuckled, and Aerith was shocked by the change it wrought in her face, like the brief glimpse of amusement turned her into a completely different person. She realized the woman probably wasn't any older than Aerith herself.

While her newest customer dug into a pocket to pull out a coin, Aerith's slender fingers reached into the basket to retrieve the best flower she had left. They traded, hands touching momentarily, and the flower girl flashed her brightest smile at the woman. "Thank you very much!"

Almost reluctantly, the woman smiled back, her red eyes meeting Aerith's own emerald ones. "Yeah… thanks." Again, there was the strange sadness in her tone. She held the flower lightly between two fingers, lifting it to her nose to smell its faint perfume, and the smile broadened before fading like a sunset. "I've never seen this kind before."

"It's a white rose," the flower girl explained.

The woman stared at the fragile bloom a moment longer. "It's beautiful," she said, her strange eyes flicking back to Aerith's face.

The brunette felt a little rush at the words and again she hesitated, aching to find out who the dark-haired warrior was and if they could talk. But she waited too long. Her customer looked over her shoulder. "You should be getting home. It might be dangerous to stick around here."

"You're probably right," Aerith said reluctantly. "You be careful, too." The woman nodded and Aerith brushed past her, walking in the direction of the station. More than once, she almost turned back. There were things she would've liked to ask the woman in the SOLDIER uniform, but it was too late now. It wasn't until she was on the train that she remembered the coin she had been given. Her fingers spread open, flower-like, revealing the gil mark the woman had handed to her.

It was a five-gil coin.

Aerith smiled the entire way home.

* * *

The train was already pulling away by the time Tifa reached it, the flower she had purchased still dangling between her fingers. She quickened her pace, carefully pinning the stem behind her belt, hoping she wouldn't crush the delicate blossom as she ran for the door of the final car, the luggage car. It was already closed, but Tifa leapt onto the side of the train and clung there like a fly, gripping the corroded iron with nimble fingers. The train whistle howled in her ears, and the clunk-clunk of the wheels clattering over the track grew louder.

She reached out to get a grip on the sliding door of the luggage car, and – with a grunt of effort – pulled it open. Just as the train was about to enter a narrow tunnel, the ex-SOLDIER yanked herself into the compartment.

They were all waiting for her as she entered: Barret, Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge, letting out a collective gasp at her entrance.

Barret was the first to recover from his surprise. "The hell are you doing? Didn't you realize I meant we were taking _this_ train?"

"I got distracted," Tifa explained, giving a careless shrug.

"'Distracted'?" The big man sounded amazed. "Our big, bad mercenary got 'distracted' walking to the train station?" He shook his head. "I oughta' take it outta' your pay, girl." Tifa simply stared at the AVALANCHE leader, putting her hands on her hips. "Whatever," Barret said, turning away. "Everyone look alive… we're gettin' outta' here." Suiting action to words, he leapt over a pile of freight and through the door leading to the last passenger car. Wedge followed, giving Tifa a shy smile before he went. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but was too embarrassed to spit it out.

Biggs helped Jessie to her feet, but the red-head pushed him away rather than let him help her. The young man made a face but went on ahead without her, throwing a nod to Tifa on his way out. Jessie limped closer, sliding the side door closed again, blocking the pattern of alternating lights lining the tunnel and the greater part of the train noise.

The short red-head glanced down, unable to meet Tifa's eyes. "Hey… thanks for helping me back at the reactor."

"It was nothing."

Impulsively, Jessie reached out to grab the other woman's arm, looking up into the ex-SOLDIER's face with a pleading gaze. "It wasn't 'nothing'. I almost screwed up the entire mission. Barret had to save me from the grunt I fought, I was slow enough to get shot by the robo-guard, and you had to put your own life on the line to carry me out." She looked away again, covering her face with her other hand. "And then the bomb going off prematurely… I could've killed all of us." Her hand released Tifa's arm. "It was my responsibility, and I messed up. I'm sorry."

For a moment, it wasn't Jessie Tifa saw, it was her own, younger self. She recognized the guilt and the blame… knew them all too well. Those emotions had been dogging her for her entire life, driving every decision she had made since she was eight years old. The smaller woman was already shuffling past her, but Tifa reached back to take her wrist. Jessie froze, looking over her shoulder shoulder morosely.

"You'll learn from this," Tifa said. "It'll make you stronger so you can't make the same mistake again." The lie burned in her throat, but – false or not – it was her philosophy. The credo she had traded her childhood for.

It seemed to work. Jessie's mopey expression changed gradually into one of determination. "You're right… thanks." She mustered a small smile and limped into the passenger car. Tifa let her go. She would join the others soon, but she needed a moment alone.

Her mind went back to the woman she had met in Sector 8… she had been a spot of color in a lifeless world. Like the flowers she sold. Tifa produced the blossom from where she had secured it, lifting it in front of her face. It seemed unharmed for now. She would have to find a vase or a glass or something to put it in when they reached Johnny's bar, but she knew even placing it in water would only delay the inevitable. Already, the ex-SOLDIER mourned the brief existence of the flower she had found, knowing its life was soon to end.

* * *

Later, Tifa trudged through Sector 7, her feet beginning to drag as exhaustion took its toll. It had been a long day, and she still wasn't fully recovered from her imprisonment in a Shinra lab, not to mention the case of Mako poisoning from the experiments they had conducted on her. Five years of her life gone. Even thinking about it made her sick. She could barely remember how she and Zack had escaped. The First-Class SOLDIER must have helped her, because she had been in no condition to help herself.

And how had she repaid him?

Her hand tightened into a fist. By being unconscious and useless while he had fought a veritable army of Shinra troops. She could still see him lying there, bleeding out onto the muddy plateau south of Midgar, killed by the very company he had worked so hard for. And for what reason? Tifa didn't know. All she knew was – somehow – she was the one who had survived while someone else died to protect her.

Just like before.

There was the sound of gunfire, and Tifa jumped, her mind still back on the plateau, imagining Zack's last stand. Her eyes lifted from the filthy ground to see the noise was just Barret firing off his gun-arm to announce himself as he entered the 7th Heaven restaurant and bar. His indistinct shouting could be heard from here, and – on cue – a stream of people exited the building. The big man emerged again, letting loose with a few more choice threats and imprecations to make sure there were no stragglers.

Tifa shook her head. Barret was about as subtle as the bomb that had destroyed Reactor 1. Not that he had a choice in this case. The structure wasn't just a bar, it was also the secret base of AVALANCHE. Better to annoy the patrons than allow the wrong person to see a meeting of the terrorist group. There was a certain familial closeness among the people in the slums, a camaraderie born of a population in a collective struggle to survive in this terrible city, but that very desperation made almost every person below the plate suspect. Very few could be trusted.

She approached the cozy little pub, glancing up at the neon sign glowing above the door. Barret greeted her with an overly cheerful grin. "Oh, hey, Tifa! Good to see you here… and on time, too! You didn't get 'distracted' by some shiny thing and wander off?"

Red eyes glared up at the dark-skinned man. "I should've raised my fee."

Barret's smile faltered, just a little, and he stepped aside. "Go on in."

"Aren't you coming?"

"I gotta' make sure no one gets too curious. Get goin'."

Tifa shrugged and brushed past the broad figure of Barret, climbing the small set of stairs and entering through the saloon-style doors. The other three AVALANCHE members were already gathered around one of the tables, eating and drinking. Their near-death experience had apparently heightened their appetites.

"Papa?" a small voice called from behind the long bar lining the back wall. A little girl ran around the corner and almost smacked against Tifa's shins. The ex-SOLDIER couldn't help the faint smile that curled her lips.

She knelt to bring herself eye-level with the child. "Sorry, Marlene. It's just me. Your papa'll be here in a minute, okay?"

Marlene took a step back, looking down shyly. "O-okay." The single word seemed to use up her entire reserve of bravery, because the little girl ran back to a corner and half-hid behind the worn-out fridge taking up most of that space. She peered out at Tifa as the woman rose back to her feet.

"Well hey there, Stranger," called the man still cleaning glasses behind the bar. "I knew you'd make it back."

"Johnny," Tifa said, inclining her head in acknowledgment to the bartender. The grin under his shock of red hair faded.

Still, he didn't take the hint. "You getting along with everyone?"

Tifa leaned back against a nearby wooden table, crossing her arms. "More or less."

The smile returned, a little teasing this time. "That's a surprise. I remember when we were younger you'd get into fights with everyone, for no reason at all. Maybe things have – "

"That's enough," Tifa said, shooting Johnny a look. More than a hint this time, it was a promise. She didn't want to talk about this. She didn't want to reminisce about the old days or take a walk down memory lane. This time, the red-haired man dropped it.

The following awkward silence was broken as Barret barreled through the saloon doors, his footsteps loud on the wooden floor. Marlene emerged from hiding upon seeing the big man. "Welcome home, Papa!"

"That's right, Daddy's home," Barret said, using a silly sing-song voice Tifa would never have imagined he was capable of. "Were you good today?" Marlene gave an exaggerated nod. "That's my girl!" He picked up the girl easily even though he only had one hand and lifted her up onto his broad shoulder. He looked back at the rest of the group. "Let's go, we're startin' the meeting." He walked to a nearby pinball machine and felt around the left edge. There was a loud grinding sound and the machine and the section of floor under it sank below the floor.

With a lack of concern that displayed how often they had done this before, the other three eco-terrorists leapt down into the secret room without even waiting for the hidden elevator to return. Tifa made to follow.

"Hey, hold up, Tiff," Johnny said, still standing behind the bar.

With an effort, the ex-SOLDIER kept her shoulders from hunching. She spun to face the young man, whom she had known since childhood. "Make it quick. And don't call me 'Tiff'."

"Sorry," he said with a shamefaced grin. "It's what the gang in Nibelheim used to call you back when you…" Seeing her expression, he trailed off. "Uh, anyway… I was wondering what you thought of the group. They're good people. I mean… Barret's noisy, but his bark is worse than his bite. Did you consider what I said? About maybe staying on a while?"

Tifa was already shaking her head. "I can't do that."

Johnny shot her a quizzical look. "You already have another job lined up? The boss is willing to pay you to work for AVALANCHE, so what's the problem? You said you were a mercenary now."

"I just… don't want to get too attached to these people."

"Yeah, sure." The red-head sounded bitter. "That sounds like you. You've been pushing people away since you were a kid, ever since – "

Before Tifa even knew what she was doing, she was up against the bar, one fist slamming into the polished wood. "Don't you dare!" She was breathing hard, and her chest ached. "Don't you say his name!"

But this time Johnny wasn't cowed, he leaned over the counter to confront her. "You can't make me forget it, Tifa! I remember when you were everyone's hero. We all looked up to you. Thought you were the sweetest, nicest, coolest girl in the world." He backed down and looked away, his intensity spent. "I miss that girl. I wish she would come back. She's the kind of person AVALANCHE needs."

They were both silent for a minute. Behind Tifa, the pinball elevator squeaked noisily as it returned to its place. She bit her lip, staring at the young man behind the bar. He had been one of her best friends once. Before everything had gone wrong. "The girl you knew is dead." The words were quiet, almost a whisper. "She's been dead for a long time, Johnny. As long as Cloud has."

The name hung between them, a shibboleth broken.

"She doesn't have to stay that way," Johnny said at last. "Just… think about it, okay? Everyone would be happy to have you as part of the group."

The ex-SOLDIER turned away, moving to the pinball machine, not wanting Johnny to see the pain the word gave her. For all her apparent callousness, she ached to belong somewhere. She was so tired of being alone. Self-imposed isolation in her childhood, protective isolation with SOLDIER where no one could be trusted, forced isolation with Shinra in their lab. She believed it was safer when she didn't let anyone get too close.

Still… maybe things would be different this time.

Blindly, she reached out and hit the secret switch to make the elevator descend. "I'll consider it," she called back through a dry mouth. But she already knew she'd say yes.

_For just one more mission_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here we see the timeline skewing a bit further from what we know, and me trying to switch the focus or emphasis on a few scenes. For the record, this... altered history for Tifa was one of the first things I wrote, but I chose to leave the specifics murky for now rather than do a big exposition dump in the first chapter. Little bits of information will be doled out as we go along.
> 
> I liked writing the "flower" scene from Aerith's perspective, felt it broke up the chapter nicely. The white rose was chosen for a reason, look it up if you're curious.
> 
> From Crisis Core, we know that someone built the 7th Heaven before the canon Tifa Lockhart was in Midgar, so it stands to reason it would still fill the same role in this "world line". Johnny slots in neatly as bartender/childhood friend, but the dynamic is clearly much different with Tifa and Johnny than it was for Cloud and Tifa.
> 
> Next time: "Against Neighbors III: Wingless Angel"


	3. Violence Against Neighbors III: Wingless Angel

She had decided not to go up top to sell her flowers today. Instead, Aerith chose to help her adoptive mother Elmyra clean the house they shared. By the standards of the people on the plate, the residence would be considered cramped, but it was practically a mansion in the slums. The flower girl had never asked how the woman she had come to call “mom” had held onto the house and the prime real estate it was built next to – a waterfall formed from runoff from one of the upper city’s clean-water reservoirs – but she assumed it was a measure of respect the other residents of Sector 5 had for the older woman and her long-dead husband that no one had tried to evict them.

The day passed quickly while the two of them worked to maintain their home… dusting, sweeping, mopping, and washing their clothes and linens. Afterwards, they spent several hours in the garden Aerith had painstakingly cultivated on the adjoining land. She remembered how Elmyra had told her not to get her hopes up, that nothing could grow in Midgar anymore, but – with innate skill and learned patience – the younger woman had succeeded.

When Elmyra asked how she had accomplished it, Aerith could only smile and shrug. “I guess it’s just something I’m good at.”

She left out the part about how the voices she heard in the abandoned church had helped her. Some of them – the clearer voices – had shared the secrets of coaxing life from the ground, of cooperating with the Planet itself, giving what it needed to receive more in return. Elmyra was supportive, but she could never understand the other side of Aerith. The side of her that was Cetra and could speak to the Planet and the river of souls running under its surface.

Mother and daughter toiled in comfortable silence; their years of closeness made words unnecessary. It wasn’t surprising, then, how Elmyra noticed her adoptive daughter’s intermittent periods of absent-mindedness and distraction. Aerith would stop in the middle of what she was doing and stare off into space, her green eyes – normally so clear – growing cloudy and distant with thought. As the afternoon grew older, amber sunlight peeked under the plate, bathing the women and the flowers in a warm glow.

Aerith rose to her feet, brushing herself clean of clinging soil. “I think I’m going to go to the church for a bit, Mom.”

The older woman had long since given up trying to keep her adventurous daughter close to home, despite the dangers of wandering the slums. She let out a sigh instead. “Just be careful, all right?”

“I’ll be fine,” Aerith said with reassuring confidence. But she didn’t move, her eyes losing focus again.

“What’s on your mind, honey?” Elmyra asked at last, watching Aerith closely.

Aerith’s gaze returned to the present and she smiled at her mother. “Hmmm? Oh, it’s nothing, just thinking about a dream I had last night.”

“A dream? A good one, I hope.”

The pink bow of the younger woman’s lips shrank a little. “It didn’t seem like it, but… it made me happy anyway.”

Elmyra didn’t push for details. She never did. She had grown familiar with Aerith’s strange moods and the odd things she sometimes said. Still, the flower girl felt the need to explain herself, to try and understand her own feelings about the vision she had seen in her sleep. “You know… when I was younger, before I started selling flowers up on the plate?”

“Of course.” Elmyra smiled to herself, glancing at the seedlings they had transplanted from the church in Sector 5 as if comparing the tiny buds to a younger Aerith. “What about it?”

“I used to be afraid of the sky. It was too big, too open. I felt like it was going to take me away somehow.” Aerith chuckled and patted the dirt. “I preferred being close to the ground. But… maybe the sky isn’t as scary as I thought it was.”

This time, the older woman looked at her with a curious expression. “And why is that?”

The emerald gaze turned upwards as the girl stared up through the plate. “Because I think… I think the sky might give something back instead.”

* * *

 

This job had been doomed from the start, ever since Jessie’s rigged Secure-ID cards somehow triggered a lockdown of the train AVALANCHE was taking to the Sector 5 reactor. The group had been forced to jump from the moving vehicle and travel the remaining distance on foot, crawling into onto the plate from below like rats in the walls. Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge had pulled out after helping Tifa and Barret infiltrate the reactor, Jessie clearly racked with guilt over what she perceived as another failure on her shoulders.

The ex-SOLDIER and the eco-terrorist leader made their way into the bowels of the power plant, planting a new, improved explosive device in a similar location as the last one. For a brief time, it looked like luck had joined their side again, but it was a lie. Shinra’s lie. On the bridge in front of the reactor, the duo had been met with a cadre of Shinra troops blocking their way, and President Shinra himself had made an appearance, heralded by the steady clicking of his feet against the metal walkway.

“So you’re the infamous AVALANCHE…” the older man’s voice was smooth and controlled. As impeccable as the suit he wore. His shoes gleamed. They probably cost more than what Tifa was making for this job.

Barret stepped forward, veins bulging on his neck. “Damn straight!”

President Shinra turned his regard to Tifa. “And you. I know you. The female SOLDIER. Lockhart, was it? It was reported that you were killed in action, but here you are, siding with terrorists. What a disappointment.”

Despite everything, she couldn’t help but feel a stab of dismay at the callous disregard for her survival. Though Tifa owed this man nothing, his dismissal of her almost made her wince.

“Fuck off, President Fatass!” Barret, faced with the head of monster he had sworn to destroy, was livid. “We’re the ones wiping the floor with your army and blowing up your reactors, and you call us disappointments?”

Somehow, despite his appearance of a well-fed, shorter-than-average man of middle-age, the president was still intimidating. Against Barret’s rage, he looked almost bored. “I would say those soldiers payed for their failures in a most decisive way, wouldn’t you? As for the reactor, well… such things can be replaced. You have to sacrifice greens to catch a chocobo, after all.”

“The hell are you sayin’?”

President Shinra glanced at his watch. “You’ll find out soon. We both have appointments to keep. I have a dinner to attend and you… I’ve arranged something special for you.” Tifa turned her head as her sharp ears caught a buzzing, droning sound over the pulse of the reactor. Boxing them in from the opposite side as the ranks of Shinra troops was a new mechanical monstrosity, a hovering, man-shaped robot bristling with weapons. “This is ‘Airbuster’,” the president continued, cold satisfaction coloring his words. “A techno-soldier. It’s something new our Weapons Development Department has come up with.”

A helicopter rose from below the bridge, and the head of Shinra Inc. stepped into it with practiced ease. “Do have the decency to die quickly.”

Barret raised his gun-arm, pointing it at the ascending helicopter. “Hold on! We got lots more to talk about, you bastard!”

Tifa meanwhile, had drawn the Buster Sword, watching the big robot with wary eyes. It advanced on her in short bursts, and she gave way before it, drawing it past where her companion was standing waving his weapon. “Barret! We gotta’ do something about this thing first!” The dark-skinned man sword violently, but turned his attention to the Airbuster. The ex-SOLDIER smiled tightly. Now the techno-soldier was pinned between them.

She attacked in a rush, darting forward to feint at the robot and getting its attention. “Hit it from behind!” she shouted. Barret did as she instructed, pouring rounds into the more sensitive machinery at the rear of the automaton. It wheeled around to face this new threat, exposing itself to a punishing slash from the Buster Sword. Something sparked and exploded and the techno-soldier froze mid-turn.

“Just a dumb machine,” Tifa declared with a predatory smile. Her triumph was short-lived, however, as heretofore hidden machine guns emerged and fired at her. She leapt back, raising her sword again, hearing and feeling bullets striking the broad blade and the catwalk beneath her. Too close. She knew better than to underestimate Shinra technology.

Barret’s voice rose above the sound of gunfire, cursing again as the rocket launcher on the robot’s shoulder zeroed in on his position. He shifted his aim and a lucky shot hit the missile just as it emerged. The explosive detonated in the Airbuster’s face, blowing off a significant chunk of its metallic head and upper torso.

Too easy. Even as the thought crossed her mind, Tifa saw the sparks wreathe the remainder of the robot. It fell to the catwalk, shaking violently. The ex-SOLDIER saw the trap they had fallen into. The Airbuster was never meant to kill them, it was a…

“Bomb!” she screamed. There was no time to react. The robot exploded, throwing Barret back and destroying the length of catwalk under the machine’s bulk. Tifa scrambled away, but the tongue of bridge she was on tilted crazily, sending her tumbling towards the hole caused by the explosion. For a terrible instant, she felt the absence of ground beneath her, but her flailing hands caught something, stopping her with a lurch.

Tifa fought back the panic rising through her guts, freezing her lungs and burning her throat. Panic wasn’t going to help her here. All it would do is make her hands sweaty, and if she lost her grip on the narrow pipes sticking from the innards of the broken bridge she was dangling from, she would fall.

She would fall.

A moment of dizziness made her light-headed. It wasn’t acrophobia exactly. The heights didn’t affect her, only the falling. She remembered the sensation all too well, and the memory was not something she wanted to relive. Her crimson eyes squeezed shut. Not again.

“Dammit! Hold on, Tifa!” Barret reached out for her, but the gap in the bridge caused by the destruction of the techno soldier they had destroyed was too large, and he was on the wrong side of it. The big man leaned out even further, making his own position precarious. “It’s no good! You’re gonna’ have to pull yourself up!”

Easier said than done. But he was right. “You just get out of here!” Tifa shouted, struggling to get a more secure grip on the jagged edges of pipe which were here only handholds. “The reactor’ll blow any second!”

The dark-skinned eco-terrorist hesitated, but they both knew there was nothing he could do to help her. “Shit! I’m sorry, girl. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“Hey, I’m not dead yet,” Tifa grunted, using the strength of her arms to try and pull herself back onto the walkway. “Stop talking like I am.” The Buster Sword on her back weighed her down and – for a moment – she regretted taking on Zack’s burden. Nonetheless, it seemed for a moment as if she were making progress.

Then the reactor, the bridge, the air itself shook as the bomb she and Barret had planted at the power plant’s heart exploded. Before she could react, Tifa’s grip slipped and she plummeted down to the ground fifty meters below, catching a glimpse of Barret’s bluff, bearded face twisted with anguish as he watched her drop.

And – just like twelve years ago – Tifa fell. This time, she doubted anyone would be there to save her.

* * *

 

_She’s hurt. The ache in her body is like a red tide ebbing and flowing, tracing lines to define her limbs. A cold wind makes her tremble, and that only intensifies the pain. All is silent but for the distant crack of stone and the whisper of the breeze. Wet stone presses against her cheek._

_She knows this place._

_\- Just like before –_

_“Please…” she begs without opening her eyes. She knows what she’ll find. “Not again.”_

_\- You’re fine, Tifa. Take it slowly. –_

_“I know… I know.”_

“It’s you!” The voice was familiar. “Are you all right? Can you move?”

_\- That’s it. Open your eyes. –_

_She shakes her head. “Don’t make me look. Don’t make me see you lying there.”_

A gasp. “There you go. I’m so glad you’re alive.”

_For a moment, she wavers. The dread certainty that comes only with a half-conscious mind has her convinced she’s back in the canyon in the Nibel Mountains. If she wakes up, she’ll see him. See his little body, twisted and broken from the fall. It wouldn’t be the first time. She’s had this dream before… more times than she could count._

“Hello? Please wake up.”

The poignancy of the plea broke through the last of Tifa’s subconscious hesitation. Her eyes cracked open, revealing a blur of colors. Pink and red like a Nibelheim sunset, brown and green like earth and grass. It was nature. It was life. It was heartbreakingly beautiful after weeks spent in the dirty gray metropolis. Drawn against her will, one hand raised, reaching out for the vision. Soft fingers grasped the outstretched limb, and the blur resolved into a familiar figure.

“Where… am I?”

The flower girl Tifa had met in Sector 8 squeezed her hand supportively. “In an abandoned church in the Sector 5 slums. You came crashing down from above and scared me half-to-death.”

The slums. Tifa shook her head to clear it. “I fell from the plate.”

“The roof must have slowed you down and the flowers cushioned your fall. You were lucky.”

“Flowers?” the ex-SOLDIER shifted, feeling the hard edge of the Buster Sword beneath her back and soft petals brushing against her arms and legs. She pulled her hand back from the flower girl’s grasp and struggled to stand, to remove herself from the precious patch of blossoms she was lying in. “I’m so sorry.”

The other woman giggled. “Don’t worry, the flowers are pretty resilient. Kind of like you.” There was a hint of teasing in her tone. “Even though they say nothing grows in Midgar, they have no problem growing in this place.” She stood and gazed upward. The sinking sun angled in through long-broken windows and lit upon her rich brown hair. “I love it here.”

Tifa realized she was staring. With an effort, she pulled her gaze away to glance around the rest of the building. The church was in a state of elegant decay. The wooden floor was splintered and shattered, there was no glass in any of the windows, and only a few sagging pews remained. It must have been over a hundred years old, at least. It had been a century since Minerva worship was still popular enough to warrant this kind of structure. Still, it retained a kind of noble dignity and quiet beauty. “I can see why,” she said at last.

A bright smile flashed in her direction. “I was hoping I’d see you again. You remember me, right?”

“Of course. I put the flower you gave me in water.”

Another giggle and the girl strolled to the other side of the flower patch, kneeling to caress one of the silky blooms with a single finger. “I’m glad. Thanks again for buying it.”

Tifa finally managed to get to her feet and step carefully away from the flowers. She rubbed her arms and tested her muscles, taking stock of her injuries. Everything hurt, but nothing seemed to be broken or permanently damaged. She looked up at the hole she had made in the vaulted roof. The girl was right. She had been lucky. The absurdity of the situation made Tifa chuckle. “I gotta’ say… you’re taking this all pretty well.”

“Believe it or not, this has happened before,” the other woman said, throwing the ex-SOLDIER a grin. At Tifa’s astonished stare, the flower girl laughed. “I’m serious.” She leaned her head back, ringlets of brown hair falling past her shoulders. “Besides…” the smile turned shy. “I had a dream that told me I might see you again.”

“You did?” Tifa tilted her head, curious.

She nodded, that faint smile still on her lips. “I dreamed a wingless angel fell to earth. And here you are.”

The blush creeping up Tifa’s neck and shoulders was uncontrollable, so she settled for looking down, hiding it behind the curtain of her long dark hair as best she could. “I’m no angel.”

“Maybe not anymore.” Her tone was light, easy and she got to her feet again to cross over to Tifa’s side. “Or not yet. Do you mind if I ask your name?”

“It’s Tifa Lockhart,” the ex-SOLDIER said. Something about the girl made it a simple choice to share her whole name.

“My name’s Aerith. Aerith Gainsborough.” She held out a hand with a smile and Tifa shook it. Her skin was smooth and cool. “Nice to meet you. So can I ask how you ended up here?”

The dark-haired woman hesitated, looking for a good answer. “It’s… kind of a long story. Let’s just say I was on a job and things went wrong.”

“I’m guessing that’s an understatement,” Aerith said drily. “’A job’? What is it you do?”

“Oh… this and that. I’m working as a mercenary.”

“Sounds exciting,” Aerith said, clasping her hands together and leaning forward a bit.

Tifa felt a smile cross her face. “It has its moments.”

The flower girl smiled back. “I’m sure. But what did you –“

Her question was cut off by the sound of shoes clicking against wood. Tifa looked over Aerith’s shoulder and felt herself go cold. A figure in a dark suit was standing near the doorway. The suit was unbuttoned, the dress shirt untucked, and the young man wearing the clothes had a lazy, careless look about him, but Tifa wasn’t fooled.

“Bad timing,” Aerith muttered, looking back at the intruder.

The red-headed man waved a diffident hand. “Don’t mind me, yeah? Finish your conversation.” His voice was a match for his look. Lofty and indolent.

Aerith seemed to take him at face value and faced Tifa again. “A mercenary, huh? Does that mean you’re available to work as a bodyguard?”

Tifa’s crimson gaze was still fixed on the stranger. “That’s right.”

“Then I want to hire you to get me out of here and take me home.”

“Deal,” Tifa said. She smiled faintly. “We’ll work out the payment later.”

Aerith eyes shifted away, putting a hand to her own cheek. “Oh dear… all I have to pay you with is my body.” Tifa’s jaw dropped and she felt her face go hot. The flower girl laughed. “You should see your face! I was joking.” She glanced over shoulder as if she had just remembered the man in the suit. “I’ll come up with something.”

Tifa shook her head, fighting back the smile the other woman had put on her face. It was time to get down to business. She stepped past the girl and approached the red-head. “Look,” she began. “I don’t know who exactly you are, but what business do the Turks have here?”

“I could ask the same of you,” the man said with a lazy shrug. “I haven’t heard of a SOLDIER being down here since…” he trailed off. “Anyway, just stand aside, we got business with the young lady here.” A trio of Shinra troopers filed in behind the Turk.

“Shinra business?” Tifa asked, reaching back to touch the hilt of the Buster Sword. “Forget it.”

One of the troopers stepped forward, half-raising his rifle. “Reno! Want her taken out?”

The suited man, Reno, raised a hand to stop his underling. “Not quite yet. There’s something familiar about her…”

“Don’t you dare fight here!” Aerith said from behind Tifa. “You’ll ruin the flowers.” Her voice lowered to address the ex-SOLDIER. “There’s a way out in the back.”

Tifa gave a single nod. Impulsively, she grabbed the flower girl’s hand and dashed for the rear of the church, pulling Aerith along with her. The next room was a mess. It looked like there had once been a stairway winding around the perimeter, but the flooring was demolished by what appeared to be the tip of a giant missile or rocket which had crashed through one wall and lodged in place. It was a miracle the thing hadn’t exploded. The dark-haired woman paused, unsure of which direction to go, but Aerith stepped forward, disentangling her hand from Tifa’s and pointed to the still-intact stairs leading up on the other side of the chamber.

She jumped over the gap, barely making it to the other side, and Tifa followed after, her SOLDIER-enhanced strength making the leap easier for her. To her surprise, Aerith grabbed her hand again and led her up the stairs to the next level. Tifa could see now where they were headed. Beyond another set of stairs, a series of interconnected rafters threaded back and forth where the ceiling used to be. They could use those to escape through the hole in the roof and out into the slums.

There was another gap in the unstable wooden floor ahead of them. Tifa set her jaw, taking the lead once more and increasing her speed, forcing Aerith to do the same. “Hey… wait!” the flower girl protested. But it was too late. Tifa crossed over the gap, pulling her companion with her. She landed firmly on the other side, but Aerith teetered at the edge, almost falling back onto the sloping surface of the rusted, un-detonated rocked. Her hand slipped from Tifa’s and she tipped back, eyes going wide.

Tifa spun, grabbing the girl’s arm with one strong hand before Aerith could topple over the edge. “I won’t let you fall,” she promised between grit teeth, yanking the other woman forward. Aerith collapsed against her and Tifa’s arms instinctively went around her slender body to support her. She smelled like the flower Tifa had bought.

“That was close,” Aerith breathed.

“Sorry.” Tifa reluctantly released her companion as she stood on her own again. “You okay?” The flower girl nodded.

Reno’s voice came from below them. “The Ancient’s getting away!”

“Attack! Attack! Stop them!” One of the over-eager troopers shouted. There was a burst of machine-gun fire, loud at this distance, and bullets tore through the rotting wood near their feet, throwing up splinters and dust.

“Dammit! Hold your fire!” Reno shouted. “Tseng wants her alive!”

“Time to go!” Tifa spun and ran to the last staircase, pulling Aerith behind her again before the Turk could change his mind. The duo gained the tentative safety of the rafters and Tifa took a moment to tip over a barrel sitting precariously on one wooden beam, knocking it into the cluster of Shinra operatives. She grinned at the cries and curses rising from the lower level and followed Aerith out onto the roof.

They took a moment, looking down into the structure, seeing the chaos their escape had thrown the small group into. Aerith laughed at the sight of Reno disentangling himself from a bumbling trooper and Tifa laughed with her. A genuine moment of mirth. The first since… she couldn’t remember when.

“They haven’t gotten me yet,” Aerith said, emerald eyes dancing with amusement.

The ex-SOLDIER tilted her head. “You mean this isn’t the first time they’ve come after you?” Aerith shook her head. “The Turks are… well if SOLDIER is Shinra’s sword, the Turks are their knife. They’re spies, assassins, kidnappers, and anything else the company needs them to be. Why’re they after you?” Aerith’s lips tightened, but she didn’t answer. “Right,” Tifa said. “Well it doesn’t matter to me anyway. Let’s get out of here.”

They made their way deeper into the slums, crossing roofs and giant mounds of garbage and construction debris. Tifa kept the pace easy, aware of her companion’s lack of training, but Aerith kept up reasonably well. “You’d make a good SOLDIER,” she said, watching the girl leap across a series of corroded metal platforms.

Aerith looked at her sharply before letting out a laugh. “I don’t think so. I didn’t even know they let women in.”

“Very few,” Tifa admitted. “And it’s… well, it’s not an easy thing to do.”

“But you did it.” It wasn’t a question. “You made it into SOLDIER.”

This time it was Tifa’s turn to be surprised. “That’s right. How did you know?”

Aerith stepped closer, peering into her face. “Your eyes. They have the glow.”

Instinctively, Tifa stepped back, glancing away. “It’s from the Mako treatment,” she explained. “Every SOLDIER gets it.” A pause and then a self-depreciating laugh. “They freak a lot of people out.”

“I think they’re beautiful,” Aerith said. The words were so blunt, spoken without embarrassment or hesitation, that Tifa felt herself flush. She couldn’t think of anything to say, turning around instead to hide the color in her cheeks.

She cleared her throat. “Come on. My job’s not done yet.” Aerith’s giggle was quiet, and Tifa chose to ignore it.

* * *

 

_I shouldn’t be here_ , Tifa thought, sitting gingerly on the bed in the tiny room Aerith and Elmyra had offered her for the night. The Buster Sword rested against the wall near the door, close enough where she could reach it if she needed to. She leaned back onto the soft mattress, shoulders still tense. How long had it been since she had slept in a real bed?

Not since Nibelheim.

Her fingers twitched. With an effort, she shoved the memories back into a dark corner of her mind. Tifa knew she should’ve insisted on going back to Sector 7 after escorting Aerith back to her home, but the flower girl had insisted on the ex-SOLDIER staying the night and Tifa had allowed herself to be convinced. She didn’t want to leave. She had never connected with anyone as quickly as she had bonded with Aerith. It was like they had been friends for a long time already.

Through the thin wall separating their rooms, she could hear the brown-haired woman moving, humming to herself. Tifa pictured her smile, her bright green gaze. Aerith hadn’t been frightened of her Mako eyes or her sword. She wasn’t suspicious of Tifa’s past with the Shinra. She simply accepted her as she was. It was… refreshing.

Elmyra, however, as grateful as she had been to see her daughter safe, was more cautious. She had waited until Aerith left the room, then asked Tifa to leave before morning. She didn’t want her daughter involved in any danger. The ex-SOLDIER understood and agreed. It was safer for Aerith if she were to head back to Sector 7 alone, safer to leave the girl behind.

She just had to wait… wait until Aerith fell asleep. Tifa’s lids lowered over crimson eyes. But she was so tired. It wouldn’t hurt to rest. Just for a little while.

Her eyes closed and she was asleep almost instantly.

* * *

 

_She dreams again. For the first time in years, she’s not haunted by memories of Nibelheim. Instead, she dreams she’s watching Aerith tend to her flowers in the abandoned church. A persistent itch around her shoulders keeps distracting her, however, and she reaches behind herself to scratch vigorously at the area. She feels a strange anomaly, a texture she doesn’t expect and pulls her hand back._

_There’s a bloody feather sticking to her finger._

_Aerith turns to her with a smile. “I dreamed a wingless angel fell to earth. And here you are.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Dialogue, dialogue, dialogue. I enjoy writing it, I enjoy reading it when it's well done. I've got to keep this in mind when I work on other projects.
> 
> This chapter was a lot longer than I intended, and it didn't actually get as far as I wanted, but that's okay. I like how it turned out.
> 
> Next time... "Violence Against Neighbors IV: Don of the Slums"


	4. Violence Against Neighbors IV: Getting to Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tifa and Aerith travel through Sector 6 on their way back to Sector 7, but an overheard conversation leads to a detour into Don Corneo's territory of Wall Market.

Aerith had only been waiting for a few minutes when she spotted Tifa approaching in the pre-dawn dimness under the plate, a vague shadow distinguishable mostly by the distinctive shape of the Buster Sword on her back. The Cetra stood with hands on her hips at the crumbling wall marking the boundary between Sector 5 and Sector 6. Flickering, buzzing electric lights provided fitful illumination and – far above – a greenish glow filtered down from the upper city. The flower girl saw her new friend before Tifa spotted her, so she was able to see the guilty twitch in the other woman’s shoulders when the glowing crimson eyes lit upon her.

“Maybe SOLDIERs don’t sleep as much as normal people,” Aerith said, knowing it wasn’t true, but wanting to give Tifa an excuse. She didn’t know whether to feel disappointed or relieved her hunch had been proven true and the dark-haired woman had tried to sneak out before Aerith was awake.

Tifa couldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She sounded miserable. “I was trying to keep you safe.”

The flower girl stepped forward to peer into the other woman’s face. “Are you a danger to me?” she asked. It was meant to be a tease, a playful question to get a flippant response.

Instead, she saw a glimpse of bleak pain in Tifa’s expression. “Probably.”

“You did your best to leave me behind,” Aerith said, unshaken by her companion’s answer. “Whatever happens next is because I made a choice. Okay?” Tifa nodded. “Good. We’ll have to go through the wreckage of Sector 6 before we reach Sector 7. I’ll show you the way.” She turned and walked through the rough hole which served as an arch over the faint path, hearing Tifa follow.

Once, there had been a wide highway here running towards the center of Midgar, back when there had been no upper plate and the little towns surrounding the main city had actual names instead of numbers. Now the road was a cracked, twisted ruin, entire sections raised, lowered, or tilted, barely recognizable for what it used to be. Mechanical debris littered the broken landscape; girders and construction equipment and old rusted vehicles.

The duo was forced to climb, burrow, and tight-rope walk the various obstacle to advance down the road. Fortunately, the Sector 6 plate – damaged in a recent disaster – was still under reconstruction and the sky was open above them, allowing faint moonlight to illuminate the winding path they took. They saw no other people, and the local monstrous wildlife – mutants born of Mako pollution – left them alone, though they could hear growls and skittering in the dark on either side.

Aerith wasn’t worried. She was confident Tifa could handle anything reckless enough to attack them, and she herself was far from defenseless. She fingered the green materia stone she had placed in one of her armbands, reassuring herself the magic the crystal allowed her to channel could be used when needed. By habit, she brushed one hand through her hair, feeling the other materia she kept attached to the ribbon tying back her hair.

The second stone was a pure, flawless white, almost like a pearl. She had received it from her mother – her real mother – before the woman had died. Aerith had spent years struggling to make it work, but as far as she could tell the materia didn’t do anything. She kept it with her anyway, feeling safer just having it near. It was a memento if nothing else.

Ahead of them, the highway terminated in a wall of garbage formed of debris fallen from Sector 6. Aerith turned aside before they reached the barrier. She knew the way and was confident of her navigation even in the dark, though it had been a while since she had gone this way.

She glanced aside at Tifa, taking in the woman’s lean yet shapely figure, emerald eyes lingering on the giant sword strapped to her back. The mercenary fascinated her. At times, she reminded Aerith of Zack, and – at others – she seemed to be the complete opposite. She was strong, but the flower girl could sense the vulnerability there, too. She had been hurt. Aerith wanted to fix her. Wanted to mend her and see who the other woman was under the mask of indifference and pain. She was good at making things blossom.

So distracted was she with her musings that Aerith didn’t notice at first they had gone through the fence into a park. It had been called “Green Park” a long time ago. Once it probably had indeed been green. Now the dirt was bare, the metal of the children’s swings and slides rusted and corroded, the plastic faded and stained. Still, she felt a smile light her face, imagining the park as it must have looked in its heyday.

Her hand raised to point to a wide gap in another of the ubiquitous sector-dividing walls. Surrounded by a warning pattern of alternating black and yellow was a solid iron gate. “Sector 7 is right through there.” Tifa nodded, staring in the direction of the gate, but she didn’t move. She hadn’t said anything since they had started off together. Aerith tilted her head at the other woman. “Want to take a break?”

“Yeah…” Tifa said. She threw a quick, concerned smile at the flower girl. “Sorry, I’m just wondering how you’re going to get home.”

“Are you worried about me?” Aerith’s tone was teasing, and she had the satisfaction of seeing her companion redden a bit. She liked this side of the mercenary. “Well don’t be. I’ve been living down here for a long time.”

“I guess.” Tifa didn’t sound convinced.

Aerith put her hands behind her back and strolled up to a slide still standing in the middle of the park. The slide itself was constructed as if it were the tongue coming out of the face of a stylized, hemispherical cat head. Children would climb the ladder on the side, crawl through the cat’s head, and emerge through the mouth. It had been years since she had last seen it. “I can’t believe it’s still here,” she murmured. Impulsively, Aerith climbed the ladder, eschewing the little tunnel and mounting the top of the little structure. “Come on, Tifa!”

The mercenary approached with a small, almost embarrassed smile on her face, but leapt onto the plastic cat head to take a seat next to her. Aerith shifted a bit, letting her shoulder press against Tifa’s. She was warm and solid and didn’t move away. They sat there in companionable silence for a minute, gazing out at the park. “What rank were you?” the flower girl asked after a time.

“In SOLDIER? I’m… I _was_ Third-Class.” Tifa let out a little huff of a laugh. “I wasn’t in for very long.”

“You say that like it isn’t impressive. Not everyone can make it into SOLDIER, right? I imagine it’s even more difficult for women.”

Tifa raised her knees to wrap her arms around her legs. “It wasn’t easy,” she admitted. “The higher-ups want female applicants to fail. More than that, they want them to give up, to admit it was a mistake to even try. But I was driven, and I had previous training. I wanted… needed to become stronger, and SOLDIER was the path I chose.” A sigh. “They let me in, gave me the Mako treatment. I thought I’d finally earn some respect, but it didn’t work like that. Other people in the company – men and women both – assumed I had only been accepted because I…” the dark-haired mercenary made a face. “Well, they thought I slept my way into SOLDIER. I was barely fifteen, but it didn’t matter to them.”

“I’m sorry,” Aerith said, turning to gaze at Tifa. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.” She paused. “Did everyone treat you that way?”

“Not everyone. There were a few people who were nice.”

Aerith took a breath. “Did you know any First-Class SOLDIERs?”

A muscle in Tifa’s cheek twitched. “The Firsts were special. We all knew _of_ them. I talked to a few.” She looked away, caught up in her memories. “Why do you ask?”

“There was a guy… I guess you’d call him a boyfriend. He was a First.” Aerith’s throat ached as images of Zack’s sky-blue eyes and easy smile flashed through her mind.

She felt Tifa tense up at her side. “Were you… serious?”

“Serious?” Aerith shook her head. “I don’t think either of us knew what a serious relationship was. But I cared about him.”

“I might’ve known him. What was his name?”

There was a studied casualness in Tifa’s voice and Aerith hesitated. She couldn’t believe it, but what if Zack had been one of the ones who had been cruel to Tifa in SOLDIER? Her earlier eagerness to see whether the mercenary knew her old boyfriend fled. She didn’t want to make things awkward. “It doesn’t matter. He’s been gone a long time.”

The sound of approaching voices put a stop to their conversation. A pair of greasy looking men appeared from the direction of Wall Market carrying a wood-and-metal barrier between them. They placed the barrier squarely in front of the iron door leading to Sector 7 and stepped away to examine their handiwork, taking no notice of the two women. Aerith twisted and could just make out the lettering written in bright spray paint:

“NO TRAFIC! NO ENTRE! BY ORDER OF DON CORNEO”

The darker skinned of the pair put a hand to his chin, looking at the sign. “Are you sure thas’ spelt right, Scotch?”

“The fuck do I look like? A dictionary? ‘Sides, how many slummies even know how to read?” Scotch wore shiny sunglasses even in the dark under the plate. “It don’t matter anyhow. Jus’ so long as no one goes to Seven for a bit.”

“I s’pose,” the first man said. “Did he tell you why no one’s allowed in or out?”

Scotch shook his head. “He don’t tell me nothing, Kotch. And you know why?”

“Cause he’s the don and we’re not,” Kotch answered as if by rote.

“Damn straight. Let’s head back. Maybe we’ll get the leftovers when Corneo picks a woman tonight. I could use a little honeybee in my bed.” The two men swaggered back to Wall Market, vulgarities and obscenities spilling from their mouths the whole way.

Aerith glanced at Tifa, who was staring in the direction the two lackeys had gone with narrowed red eyes. “I wonder what that was about,” the flower girl said.

“Me, too. I don’t like it. Something could be happening in Sector 7.”

“Should we go?” Aerith began to stand.

Tifa hesitated. “Maybe… Or maybe we can get more information before we rush in.” Aerith felt a surge of satisfaction in hearing her implicit inclusion in the mercenary’s plans. “Can you tell me anything about this… ‘Don Corneo’?”

“I can tell you a _lot_ about Corneo,” Aerith said, rolling her emerald eyes. “The man’s a pig. He turned Sector 6 into his own little den of vices. Gambling, prostitution, extortion, protection rackets, the works. It’s not a very safe place, especially for women. We’ll have to be careful.”

“I’ll protect you,” Tifa said, standing and offering her hand to Aerith. This time, it was the flower girl who felt her cheeks warm with a blush at her companion’s off-handed statement. She took the proffered hand and rose. “Now we just have to figure out a way to get close enough to the don to make him tell us what we want to know.”

Aerith grinned at the mercenary. “Actually… I might have an idea.”

* * *

 

The dress Tifa held was soft and shimmery and seemed far too small for anyone to wear. When they had finally convinced the old man who owned the store to make their dresses and the ex-SOLDIER had specified what she needed, this wasn’t quite what she had pictured. Even the violet color she’d chosen seemed brighter than she imagined. She shook her head. Far be it from her to complain. This was the slums, not Fashion Avenue in Sector 2. It was this or nothing.

With a sigh, she began tugging off her SOLDIER uniform, removing the metal pauldron covering one shoulder, the heavy bracer protecting one wrist, and the sleeveless cerulean turtleneck. The dressing room was narrow, and Tifa twisted awkwardly as she shimmied out of her boots and the baggy pants that were part of the uniform. She jumped as a pale hand slipped through the curtain dividing the tiny alcove from the rest of the clothing store. The hand held a delicate set of lingerie.

“I’m not sure what you have under your uniform, but put these on instead,” Aerith’s voice came from behind the curtain.

Tifa took the underwear. They also seemed too small. “Where did you even get these?”

Aerith giggled. “It’s Wall Market. It’s the only kind of ‘finer thing’ we have in this part of the slums.”

The dark-haired mercenary sighed, slipping out of her utilitarian sports bra and spats. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“I didn’t have a lot of opportunities to play dress-up when I was growing up.”

“Makes sense,” Tifa mumbled. She inhaled sharply to get the lacy bra hooked and winced. “A little tight.”

“Seriously?” Aerith’s voice rose in shock. “That was the biggest one I could find.”

Tifa blushed. “Yeah, well… I’m used to it.” She took the dress and attempted to slide the garment over her shoulders. The fabric rustled around her as she twisted and pulled it, but no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t seem to find the correct opening for her head. How many holes were in this damn thing?

Her companion seemed to sense she was having problems. “Trouble?”

“Just… can’t figure this thing out.” She was pulling the dress back off her head to start over from scratch when she heard movement behind her and felt a warm body slip into the dressing room with her. Tifa let out a yelp. “Hey!” Her arms lifted automatically to cover her torso. Not so much to hide her breasts, but more to obscure the long scar running down her chest.

Aerith didn’t even notice, laughing at her friend’s predicament. “Relax, I’m here to give you a hand.” She took the violet dress from Tifa with a grin. “Here’s your problem…” Her slender fingers found a slider on the back of the garment and unzipped it, opening the back of the dress.

“Oh.” Tifa was mortified. “That might help.”

“It’s okay. I guess you didn’t have a lot of opportunities to dress up either.” She handed the dress back to Tifa, who found it much easier to put on this time. Before the ex-SOLDIER could attempt it, Aerith’s nimble fingers were already zipping the dress up.

Tifa shivered though her skin felt hot. There was an easy intimacy about the flower girl’s actions that was making her dizzy. She hadn’t been this close to someone in a long time. Her breathing was loud in her ears. The zipper seemed to be rising very slowly. At last, it was fully secured. “There you go.” Aerith’s words were warm against Tifa’s neck.

“Th-thanks.” She willed herself to stop blushing and turned around to face her smiling friend. “What do you think?”

“It’s fantastic!” The brown-haired woman took a step back and looked Tifa up and down. “We’ll have to do something about your hair, but I can help you with that.”

Tifa ran her fingers through her lustrous dark hair, feeling how it was tangled and staticky from her earlier attempts to put the dress on. She could fix it herself, but… “If you don’t mind.”

Aerith’s smile turned sly, and Tifa had the feeling the girl knew her every thought. “Of course I don’t mind. Just let me get changed first.” She pushed the mercenary out of the dressing room with a teasing laugh. “And no peeking.”

“I wasn’t going to –“ Tifa shook her head. It hadn’t even occurred to her to try and watch the other girl change. Now she couldn’t _not_ think about it. “Brat,” she said under her breath, a small smile on her face. She turned to see the shop owner, his son, and the single other customer in the tiny clothing store staring at her. “What are you looking at?” she asked, hands on hips. They turned away as one and pretended to focus on other things.

It took much less time for Aerith to get ready, and she emerged presently in a classy red satin dress and matching shoes. She looked elegant and confident, not at all like a girl who had spent most of her life in the slums of Midgar. But then… she was always like that. Tifa remembered watching her on their trek through Sector 6, seeing the way the other woman had moved. She didn’t have the slump-shouldered, closed-in walk most everyone else in the slums did. Jessie especially had a don’t-touch-me kind of body language from a lifetime in close quarters to thieves, tramps, and hobos.

Not Aerith. She was different.

She realized she was staring and looked away, clearing her throat. “You look great.”

“Thank you very much,” Aerith chirped. “I love this color.” Tifa glanced at the dress again. It was the same color as the ex-SOLDIER’s eyes. She felt warm again. “We’ll fix our hair, then we’ll go.”

When Aerith was finished, Tifa barely recognized herself in the floor-length mirror leaning against one wall. The violet dress sheathed her body, emphasizing her curves, short enough to show off her long legs. She had specified a garment that would keep her shoulders and collar covered – conscious as ever of the scar Sephiroth had given her in Nibelheim – but the tailor had put a triangular “window” in the chest, revealing an embarrassing amount of cleavage. Her thick hair was a long, dark mane behind her, loose from the dolphin-tail tie she normally kept it in. A touch of makeup completed the look, darkening her lips to a luscious red.

To her hyper-sensitive gaze, the clothes, the hair, and the makeup couldn’t hide the former SOLDIER below. It was visible in her arms, where one could see her lean muscles. It was visible in her posture, more aggressive than some floozy from the Honeybee Inn. It was especially visible in her eyes, challenging and penetrating.

Aerith’s reflection appeared at her side, the flower girl threading one arm under Tifa’s. “Maybe we should’ve just busted in,” the mercenary said, low enough so the other people in the store couldn’t hear her. “It might have been easier.”

“What’s the fun of that?” Aerith asked, green eyes dancing.

Tifa’s lip curled. “Fun?” The two of them were heading into the lair of the local crime boss, masquerading as would-be concubines, trying to get information on a yet-unspecified threat against Sector 7. There were several layers of danger in this situation, physical and otherwise. And yet… “You’re right,” she said with a nod. “This is more fun.” She smiled at her companion. “Let’s knock ‘em dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Poor Tifa. For all her training, she just can't stay on balance talking to Aerith.
> 
> Next time... "Against Neighbors V: The Fall".


	5. Violence Against Neighbors V: The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tifa and Aerith infiltrate Don Corneo's mansion to discover why the crime lord has blocked access to Sector 7, but the answer is much worse than either of them expected. Can they make it back to Seven before Shinra's plans come to fruition?

It was all Tifa could do to keep her face schooled into a seductive smile. The man in front of her did not inspire such an expression. He was – as Aerith had said – a pig. Short, fat, sweaty, balding. He wore a silk robe that probably cost more than any ten denizens of Wall Market could scrape together in a month, but the richness of the garment was wasted on his corpulent frame. It hung open, revealing an expanse of hairy chest. A cigar – imported from who knew where – dangled from his fat lips.

Don Corneo was altogether disgusting. And not just physically. Tifa had seen the shanty-town of Sector 6, dedicated in every way to this little man's illicit pleasures. This was someone who twisted an entire town into his image, ruined lives, stole from those who already had nothing. He was repellant in every way.

But Aerith had the right idea all along. When they had been taken into Corneo's lair – decked out like some Wutai-ese palace in red and gold – Tifa's keen eyes had spotted hidden alcoves and murder holes, all of them no doubt staffed with the don's thugs. Breaking into the building would have been risky at best and probably worthless. The guards would've kept the duo occupied long enough for the boss to escape through some rat-hole.

Still, her fingers ached for the Buster Sword, left with her SOLDIER uniform in the dress shop. She had been trained for fighting, not espionage. Tifa was no Turk. Aerith seemed to be doing well, however, and the mercenary used that as motivation. She wouldn't let her new friend down.

Her smile stayed in place, though it was sorely tested as the fat don paced up and down the small row of three women brought in for his perusal. Tifa and Aerith were two of them. The third was a skinny blonde from Sector 3. She hadn't been very forthcoming when the ex-SOLDIER met her in the basement of Corneo's lair, but the girl had come here as a last resort, looking for money, food, and shelter, at any cost, willing to sell herself body and soul if that's what it took.

Tifa pitied her.

Corneo stopped in front of Tifa and ogled her openly, looking up and down her long legs, staring into her cleavage as if contemplating the mysteries of the universe. Animal. Long experience dealing with admirers, stalkers, and worse when she was part of Shinra kept her from reacting. It was more difficult when the don moved to Aerith and did the same, leering at the long slit in the red dress and the tempting expanse of thigh it exposed. Tifa felt herself tensing, preparing for combat, and had to concentrate to stop herself.

"Such fine ladies you've gathered for me today," the fat don said, speaking to his subordinates, Kotch and Scotch, who stood on either side of his big, gaudy desk. "Which one should I choose?" He turned away, to his desk as if deep in thought, then spun back to face the trio of women. "Woo! I've made up my mind!"

To Tifa's everlasting disgust, Corneo approached her with a gloating smile. "This fierce-looking vixen!"

"You have no idea how fierce I can be, Don," Tifa said in a low purr, her cool smile turning into a smirk. His face reddened. He clearly thought she was flirting with him.

Corneo looked over his shoulder at his subordinates. "You can have the others."

Tifa's eyes widened. Unacceptable. For some reason, she hadn't considered that the don wouldn't let Aerith free if she wasn't chosen. The thought of a pack of Corneo's lackeys pawing at the flower girl turned her stomach. Her right hand balled into a fist. Could they fight their way out? She glanced at Aerith and saw the girl shake her head minutely. No violence. Tifa brought up her hand, crafting another encouraging smile onto her face and took Corneo's fat chin between her fingers.

"Actually," she breathed. "Me and my friend are a package deal."

The don's lips trembled and his greasy eyebrows shot up. "You… and your friend?" He glanced back and forth between Tifa and Aerith. "I'm sure that can be arranged." He raised his voice to Kotch and Scotch. "Change of plans, boys. You'll have to split blondie. I'm going for the double tonight."

His thugs couldn't have been happy, but they knew better than to grumble within earshot. They left the room together, the blonde girl sandwiched between them. Tifa felt a twinge of guilt. Should she have tried to get the other woman away, too? She couldn't imagine it working, but still…

"Right this way, ladies," Corneo said, licking his thick lips. He turned and walked past a folded screen and through a curtain. Tifa and Aerith followed. The ex-SOLDIER felt her friend's hand brush against her own, the only signal the flower girl could risk to display her gratitude. It wasn't much, but Tifa felt her pasted on smile turn genuine. The room past the curtain was decorated like the rest of the mansion, but more so. Gaudy colors, faux-Wutai décor, and a complete lack of class. The big bed took up most of the room.

If she wasn't so nauseous, Tifa might have found it amusing to watch the fat little crime lord struggle to climb onto his own bed. Once he mounted the mattress, he pushed his robe open a little wider and crawled towards the two women. "Lucky me! Two chickies for the price of one! Where did you two come from, anyway? I would've noticed the pair of you in my Wall Market."

Aerith took the lead. "We came from Sector 7," she lied.

Corneo frowned. "Seven? I thought I had the gate closed off. How did you get through?"

"We made it through right before then," Tifa said quickly.

The overweight don sneered. "I hope you weren't planning on going back anytime soon."

"Oh?" Aerith asked innocently. "Why's that? Does it have anything to do with you closing the gate?"

"Let's just say… you won't find things the way you left them." Corneo snickered. He shook his head. "Why are we talking about this? Those dresses should be off by now."

Tifa stepped forward, putting a little sway in her step. She lifted a finger to toy with the don's pencil thin mustache, grimacing inwardly. "Let's not rush things." His eyelids fluttered at her ministrations and – in that moment – she shifted her grip, wrapping her fingers around his windpipe. Corneo's eyes widened and he made a choking sound, trying to scramble back on the bed. Futile. The mercenary held him fast. "Now," Tifa said sweetly. "Tell us what you have planned for Sector 7." She loosened her grip enough to allow the little man to speak, but kept her hand in place in case he tried to call for help.

"You… You're joking, right?" Corneo asked, his round face red and dripping with sweat. "Yeah, this is some kind of prank."

Aerith crowded in. "I'd answer her questions, Don. She can do things much more painful than choke you."

He struggled to escape, but Tifa's strength was irresistible. "It's not me! I was just told to find out where the man with the gun-arm was. That was all I did for them!"

"For who?" Tifa asked.

"No way," Corneo sputtered. "If I told you, I'd be killed for sure."

Aerith put her hands on her hips. "Fine. Tifa… Smash them." Tifa fought to stop herself from smiling. Her friend had quite the savage streak.

The crime boss was less amused, letting out a squeak of protest. "Heidegger!" He yelped. "The Public Safety commissioner for Shinra!"

"Shinra?" Tifa raised her left fist. "Tell us what they're doing. Talk!"

"Ohman ohman ohman," Corneo was nearly crying now. "Okay, here's what I know: The Shinra's trying to wipe out that terrorist group, AVALANCHE. Now that they know where they are, they're going to break the pillar and drop the upper plate on their heads."

Tifa's blood ran cold. "They'd destroy all of Sector 7 just to get rid of AVALANCHE? When? When are they destroying the pillar?"

Corneo shook his head as best he could with the mercenary still holding his throat. "I don't know!" he sobbed. "It could be anytime! I'm just glad they're not here in Sector 6."

"You greedy bastard," Tifa snarled. "You sold out everyone in Seven, but as long as it doesn't touch your filthy little kingdom, that's all that matters to you." Corneo just looked confused.

Aerith put a hand on Tifa's arm. "We don't have time for this. We have to warn your friends."

Tifa gave a reluctant nod. "You're right. But I don't want this little toad warning anyone."

"Wh-what are you going to do?" Corneo whimpered.

"Not enough," Tifa said. She released the crime lord's throat and – before he could even raise his hands to rub his bruised neck – she drew her fist back and punched the little man. The impact of the blow sent him flying backwards to tumble over his headboard and into the shadows behind his bed, unconscious. "Now we can go."

Together, they rushed out of the gaudy mansion and back into the streets of Wall Market. As before – when the pair had been walking to Corneo's lair – all eyes were on them. They had been the object of envy or pity heading in. There had been catcalls and wolf whistles, lewd comments and reaching, groping hands. Everyone gave them a wide berth now, and no one tried to get their attention. Maybe the people of Sector 6 didn't want to risk the don's ire by harassing his concubines. More likely they saw Tifa's determined stride and the rage in her eyes and were smart enough not to slow her down.

It only took a few minutes to return to the dress shop and a few more for them to change back into their normal clothes, but it felt like a small eternity to Tifa. Every second was precious now. Feeling more like herself wearing her SOLDIER uniform, she retrieved the Buster Sword and hooked it to her back, tying her long hair with practice ease on the move as the two of them charged out the door and back to the Sector 7 gate.

Something was wrong. They could tell as they approached the gate dividing Sector 6 from Sector 7. There was an arrhythmic thumping and the sound of faint, muffled screams. Tifa ran faster, leaving Aerith to catch up. She had to hurry. Had to reach Seven before the Shinra could bring down the plate. It couldn't be easy to destroy the support, could it? AVALANCHE may even have caught wind of the plan and be fighting their enemies right now.

The iron door was still closed. Tifa found the large valve wheel that opened it after a moment of searching and tried to turn it, but it resisted even her Mako-enhanced musculature. Panic clawed at her lungs. She didn't have time for this. Aerith rushed up behind her, out of breath from sprinting to the gate.

"What's wrong?" she gasped.

Tifa grunted, pulling at the wheel again. "It's gotta' be locked."

Aerith put a hand on her shoulder, urging her away from the wheel. "Stand back!" She raised her arm, and the ex-SOLDIER saw a glint of green light on her friend's armband. Materia. The arm lowered, hand palm out to the middle of the iron gate, and a ball of flame flashed to the thick door. Then another and another until the metal was glowing red hot. The flower girl dropped to a knee, panting. "I'm sorry… I thought that would be enough."

"It's my turn now," Tifa said. The brown-haired woman had given her an idea. She ran a thumb over one of her own materia stones, summoning a blast of ice to supercool the molten door. The rapid temperature change made the metal crack, but the gate still held firm. Tifa drew the Buster Sword and hefted it, stepping within reach of the door. The heating and freezing should have weakened the material enough for this to work. She raised the immense blade over her head and slashed downward with all her strength. Her sword impacted the brittle metal and shattered it, smashing a hole big enough for several people to walk through shoulder to shoulder.

And that's what they did. Denizens of Sector 7 poured through the ruined door, screaming and crying. They were crowded too close for Tifa to pass them, to get through to where she was most needed. She fought through the tide of humanity, but couldn't make progress. Her eyes darted from face to face, looking for someone she knew. No Jessie, no Johnny, no Marlene or Barret. Surely not all of them were still in Seven. She hoped they were on their way, part of the crowd still massed on the other side of the door, but that hope died as she saw – through the broken gate – the first explosion go off at the top of the pillar. Her heart froze in her chest.

_No!_

The explosives went off in sequence, trailing down the pillar and demolishing it section by section. The sound of the detonation was drowned out by an inhuman groaning noise as the plate fifty meters above the Sector 7 slums lurched. For a moment it hung there, suspended by its tenuous connection to the adjacent plates. Then it dropped.

It seemed to fall incredibly slowly. The people still on the wrong side of the gate stopped, staring up in horrified awe as the sky fell. Tifa saw the fear in their eyes. She heard their screams. One thought kept running on repeat in her mind:

_It's happening again…_

She turned away. "Aerith!" she screamed. The flower girl was nearby, eyes fixed on the plate as it descended, hands clasped near her face. Tifa grabbed her by the waist and spun her behind a small, rusted shack standing nearby, protecting the other woman's body with her own just in time. The plate section crashed to the ground with an indescribable cacophony, so loud it made Tifa's entire body ache. A blast of air and heat and debris shot through the partially open gate and the ground shook, creating even more noise.

The only mercy was that it was loud enough to cover the screams of the dying.

* * *

The worst of it was over. There were still clatters and groans and rumbles from beyond the wall as the plate settled, but the apocalyptic clamor had ended. Aerith's ears rang and she couldn't tell if the trembling in her limbs was her own or from Tifa, whose arms were still wrapped around her. She tried to extricate herself from the mercenary's hold, but Tifa's grip was strong and unyielding. She turned as best she could in the dark-haired woman's arms to face her.

"Tifa? We should… we need to go." The ex-SOLDIER's eyes were closed tight, her skin pale.

Those glowing crimson eyes appeared from under her lids. "Are you all right?"

Aerith gave a small nod. "I think so."

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Tifa released her and rose to her feet. She turned and staggered to where the gate to Sector 7 had once been. Now it was choked with the fallen ruin of the plate, which had destroyed everyone and everything unfortunate enough to be beneath it. She stood before the smoking pile of debris and reached out with one tentative hand, letting her fingers brush against the crumpled metal. Around them, the few escapees from Seven who had stuck around were also standing, emerging from hiding spots behind the damaged remains of the park.

Their faces all reflected the same numb shock Aerith herself felt. She couldn't believe Shinra had caused so much destruction just to take out a few rebels hiding in the slums. She imagined Tifa felt the same and approached the dark-haired woman. "Come on, Tifa," she said, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder.

Tifa shrugged her off angrily. "No," she said, her voice a fierce whisper. "No! I can't… I can't see this happen again!" She drew the Buster Sword and slashed at the mountain of metal. "My home! My friends! When does it stop?!" With each statement, she swung again, chopping uselessly into the remains of the plate. Her head tilted back to the sky and her voice rose in a wordless scream of rage and loss.

The mercenary crumpled, falling to her knees in the dirt, staring at the ground now, her hair a dark curtain hiding her face. Aerith stepped forward again, hesitant this time. She knelt at Tifa's back, wrapping her arms around the other woman's shoulders. She wished she could think of something to say to help, but this was all she could do.

"I'm cursed," Tifa breathed. "Everything I touch. Everyone I get close to."

Aerith tightened her grip. "No," she said firmly. "That's not true." She urged Tifa to turn her head to where the other survivors were gathered. "These people are alive because you broke through the gate. You saved them, Tifa. The Shinra would have killed them, but they couldn't because you were here."

There was no answer, but Aerith felt Tifa's hand cover one of her own.

"We should go," the flower girl said again. She felt her companion nod, and they stood together. Aerith had barely dropped her embrace when they heard a new sound. The rhythmic whir of a helicopter. The refugees saw the source before Aerith did, pointing up into the sky and murmuring. The murmurs turned into screams as the helicopter came closer and they scattered, some heading towards Wall Market, some in the direction of Sector 5.

"Damn," Tifa growled as she spotted the helicopter, which sported Shinra logos and colors. "Aren't they done yet?" She took Aerith's hand and ran from wreckage of Sector 7, making for the ruined highway leading back to Five. The Cetra followed, fighting through the exhaustion of their earlier run and her materia usage. They made it ten meters when Aerith caught her foot on a chunk of debris ejected from the fall of the plate and went down, her hand wrenching free from Tifa's.

She got back to her feet, wincing as she put pressure on her twisted ankle. "I'm sorry," she gasped.

Tifa shook her head. "We couldn't have outrun them anyway." The ex-SOLDIER took a step away, lifting her sword in one hand and running her thumb over the green stone placed near the hilt. Aerith's brown hair lifted around her face as static built around the two of them. A bright bolt of lightning speared through the air, zapping close to the helicopter but not striking it. "One more," Tifa said under her breath. She raised her sword, preparing to use the magic of her materia again.

There was a crack like thunder, but Aerith hadn't seen the flash of the bolt this time. Instead, she saw a fountain of red and felt warmth on her face and hands. Tifa let out a grunt of pain and stumbled backwards. "Ti… fa?"

Her friend turned to look at her, seeming to move incredibly slowly. Anguish filled her red eyes. "Run." She went down, toppling gracefully to the brown dirt under their feet.

"Oh, Planet!" Aerith swore. She knelt at Tifa's side, pressing her palms against the pulsing wound in the mercenary's chest, feeling hot, sticky blood staining her hands. "You're going to be okay, you hear me? We'll get you fixed up and away from the Shinra. Everything will be fine." She didn't even know what she was saying. The meaningless stream of words tumbled from lips, meant as much to reassure herself as her friend. She didn't even notice the helicopter descend and land near them until she felt the wash of wind from the spinning rotors.

Tifa was staring at her with pleading eyes. Her mouth moved silently, probably trying to urge Aerith to leave her behind and escape. Aerith ignored her.

She looked up, her hands still pressed against the bullet hole, willing the wound to close, using her Cetra powers on Tifa the way she did to help flowers grow by stimulating their natural life processes. It was hard to tell if it had any effect. A familiar figure was stepping from the chopper. He had black shoulder-length hair pulled back, revealing the "tilak" spot in the middle of his forehead. The man tugged on one cuff, straightening the jacket of his dark suit, a gun gleaming in his hand. A Turk. And one she knew well.

"Tseng," Aerith said in a low voice.

He approached without concern, his stride even and confident. "Aerith," he said by way of greeting. "You knew this day would come. You couldn't evade us forever."

"What do you want with me?" Aerith asked, angry and weary. "Why can't you all just leave me alone?"

Tseng's dark eyes tightened just a bit. "You know why. It's because of what you are: The last of the Ancients. You are very important to Shinra's future plans."

"And you think I'd help them after what happened today?" Aerith's voice rose to a near-shriek. "After what you did to my mother? And Tifa?!"

"We do what we have to," the Turk said. "I have my part and you have yours. I take no pleasure in what I do, but it is my job." He extended his hand, sighting down the barrel of the gun he held to point directly at Aerith.

The flower girl stared at the weapon without fear. "You wouldn't dare. You said yourself I'm too important to Shinra."

Tseng nodded. "You're absolutely right." He shifted his aim to point down at the wounded mercenary lying in the dirt breathing shallowly as her life blood spurted from between Aerith's fingers. The Cetra went cold. "We do what we have to do," Tseng repeated. "You will come with me, or I will kill Lockhart." Aerith didn't answer, gritting her teeth, tears threatening to leak from her emerald eyes.

"Don't… Don't do it," Tifa panted, face screwing up in pain. "Just get out… of here."

"She can still survive," Tseng said. "Unless I shoot her again." He paused and shook his head. "Time's up."

"No!" Aerith shouted. "Don't shoot!" She stood, Tifa's blood hot on her hands and harms. She felt the ex-SOLDIER tugging weakly at her, urging her not to give in, but her mind was made up. "I'll go with you. Just promise me you won't hurt her."

Tseng holstered his gun. There was no emotion in his expression or his face. He had made a threat and seen Aerith respond to it. It was just an equation to him. "Into the helicopter," he said.

For another moment, the flower girl looked down at her wounded friend. "I'm sorry," she said, almost to herself. "I can't let him kill you. Stay alive. Stay safe. And remember what I said… whatever happens is because I made a choice. It's not your fault." She could see in Tifa's eyes the other woman didn't believe her, but there was no time to argue.

Aerith raised her head and marched to the helicopter, refusing to meet Tseng's gaze, refusing to show fear or regret. She had made her choice. Now she had to live with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oops, I did a thing.
> 
> Read, enjoy, review. Seriously. Comment.
> 
> Next time... "Against Neighbors VI: An Unexpected Ally".


	6. Violence Against Neighbors VI: An Unexpected Ally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AVALANCHE is dead. Tifa is wounded. Aerith is captured. Things can't get much worse than this... can they?

_Darkness pulses in her vision, the scenery fading in and out at irregular intervals. Every time the blackness recedes, the scenery is different, and Tifa realizes she is lapsing in and out of consciousness, drifting between painful wakefulness and even more painful memories. Most of the images in her mind are familiar, demons she's grappled with many times in the past. Some are new. They all hurt._

_The heavy curtain drops and opens again and Tifa is back in the canyon at Mt. Nibel, only eight years old. She's kneeling, staring sightlessly at the crumpled body of her little blond neighbor, Cloud. Dead because she wasn't strong enough. Her heart aches remembering that failure. The first of many._

_Darkness falls and rises and now she's back in the village of Nibelheim. She's a fifteen-year-old Third-Class SOLDIER and yet she can only watch helplessly while Sephiroth torches her hometown for no discernible reason. Her father… Mrs. Strife… all the villagers she had known are dead and dying because she wasn't strong enough to stop the madman._

_The fire fades into blackness. Then lightning strobes and thunder crashes. She's kneeling again, this time in thick, clinging mud, holding Zack's hand while he breathes his last. His chest is riddled with bullet holes. She has no idea how he has survived this long, but his struggle is over now. Zack hands her the Buster Sword, a treasure he received from his own mentor, passing it on. "Never forget… your SOLDIER honor." He – like Cloud – dies to protect her because she can't protect herself._

_The storm clouds above her head darken instead of pass, seeming to descend closer to the ground, blotting out the sun as they fall… just like the Sector 7 plate. Tifa is standing, staring as a million tons of metal crush the slums, 7th Heaven, Jessie, Johnny, Marlene, Barret, Biggs, and Wedge. Her new home and her new friends destroyed before she could even appreciate them properly, all because she hadn't been there to stop Shinra's plans._

_Even as she turns away from the carnage, she sees a figure in a suit dragging Aerith away. Tifa draws the Buster Sword, prepared to give chase, to free the flower girl, but before she can, she feels the bullet tear through her chest. Agonizing pain paralyzes her and she falls. She's no Zack. It takes only one round to bring her down. The black haze of unconsciousness seeps in again, blocking her final view of the woman in the pink dress and the figure in the dark suit._

* * *

At last, Tifa's awareness returned, her delirium gone. There was a lumpy mattress beneath her and a dark smudge above her, obscured in her watery eyes. The blur moved and she realized it was a person leaning over her prone body. She blinked, struggling to focus. Had someone saved her?

"Good. You're awake." The voice was high, feminine, and seemed vaguely familiar.

Her vision cleared, fixing on the copper hair and brown eyes of the young woman standing next to her bed. She had pleasant features and an encouraging smile, but two things put the lie to her soft appearance: the coolness of her gaze and the black suit she was wearing.

She was a Turk. Tifa half rose, lunging at the Turk with her right fist. But she was still slow, weary, wounded, and the young woman leaned aside and captured her limb under one arm, deflecting Tifa's follow up blow with her free hand before grabbing the ex-SOLDIER's wrist and twisting it painfully.

"Let me go!" Tifa shouted, then let out a hiss of pain as the Turk applied more pressure to her wrist, which in turn sent slivers of agony down through her chest to where she had been shot.

The other woman's smile was gone now. "You should be more grateful. This isn't the first time I've saved you."

Working past the pain, Tifa yanked her right hand back and jabbed at the Turk's elbow, loosening her grip enough to free her other limb. Instead of countering her move, the copper-haired woman backed off. Tifa glared at her. "I don't know who you are or what you're talking about."

"Yeah, well… you were kind of out of it last time, too," the woman said, crossing her arms. "You can call me Cissnei."

She'd heard the name before, but where? Tifa sat up on the bed, wincing at the ache in her chest, lifting a hand to the wound. Her shirt was off and the injury had been cleaned and bandaged. She glanced around, finding herself in a small, musty room. The old, worn furnishings told her she was still in the slums. Her SOLDIER uniform top was hanging over a chair and the Buster Sword leaned against one wall. "Where are we?"

"Sector 5. I asked a couple of the survivors from Seven to help me carry you here." Before Tifa could ask, Cissnei answered her next question. "It's been about a day and a half."

Too long, but not as long as she had feared. "Why did you help me?"

Cissnei's lips tightened. "I have my reasons. At any rate, I used a restorative materia to help heal you. You recovered faster than I thought. The Ancient must have used her powers to help mend your wound."

Tifa blinked. She remembered hearing Tseng using the term earlier. "Ancient? You mean Aerith?" Alarm surged through her body. "Where is she?!" She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, swaying unsteadily, weak and woozy from blood loss.

"Take it easy," Cissnei said. She didn't even uncross her arms or move to help her. "I did what I could, but you're not 100% yet."

The mercenary staggered to the chair to retrieve her shirt, tugging it on stiffly. "Don't care. It's my fault she was captured. Tell me where she is."

"Do you plan on beating the information out of me?" Tifa turned at the hardness in the Turk's voice, looking her over more carefully this time. She couldn't have been much older than Tifa was, and her girlish figure and voice made it easy to underestimate her, but if she was a Turk, there was more to her than mere appearances. Aside from the black, three-piece suit, Cissnei wore fingerless gloves of the same color. A red and white shuriken dangled from one hip.

Although she was injured, Tifa still had her Mako-enhanced strength, and the close-quarters would give her an advantage in a fight here. It could go either way. "I will if I need to," she said. She waited a moment. "Do I need to?"

Cissnei looked away. "The girl was taken to the Shinra building in Sector 0. Professor Hojo wants to study her."

"Because she's an Ancient," Tifa said.

The Turk nodded. "The last Ancient."

"And what does that mean, exactly?"

"The Ancients – the Cetra, that is – have special powers, like how Aerith was able to help heal you. It's also said they can commune with the planet. When they die, Cetra are supposed to go a place called 'the Promised Land', a land flowing with life and energy."

Tifa's voice lowered. "Mako."

"So they say," Cissnei said. "Shinra wants the girl to lead them to the promised land so they can harvest the Mako energy there."

"And then they can suck it dry and ruin that, too?" Tifa asked bitterly.

The other woman's eyes flashed and her shoulders tensed. "The company's provided a better life for millions with the help of Mako."

"At what cost?"

"I'm not going to argue with you," Cissnei said, relaxing again with a visible effort. "Besides, it doesn't matter. Shinra won't find the promised land, because I intend to help you rescue your friend."

The ex-SOLDIER stared at her rescuer, suspicious. "Why?"

Cissnei shook her head. "You wouldn't understand and you wouldn't believe me."

"Try me."

The copper-haired woman in the black suit didn't answer for a long time. Her eyes drifted to where the Buster Sword rested against the cracked, peeling wall. Her answer, when it came, was short. "Zack," she said softly.

With that name spoken, memories flooded through Tifa's mind. She remembered now. She remembered where she'd heard the Turk's voice. She remembered where she'd heard her name. And she remembered when Cissnei had first saved her life.

It was after her and Zack had escaped from their long imprisonment in a Shinra laboratory. Tifa had been nearly comatose with Mako sickness at the time and couldn't remember many details. They had passed through a darkened town, down a long road and to the coast.

The mercenary clutched at her head with one hand, glowing eyes squeezed shut.

_"Is she the other sample that escaped…?"_

_"Stay away from her, Cissnei! I told you not to -"_

_"She doesn't look well, Zack."_

_"Mako addiction. It's pretty bad."_

_"The experiments?"_

_"That's right."_

_She remembered the distinctive digital tones of a PHS. Someone had tried making a call._

_"Hey! What are you –"_

_Silence. Then…_

_"Tseng. I've lost the target." Another silence and the phone snapped shut. "That's how it is… you have to get away safely."_

Tifa looked up again, staring at the Turk with new eyes. "You let us escape. Even gave us a bike."

"So, you do remember," Cissnei said. "Zack was… I disobeyed orders to let you two go." A small, sad smile crossed her face. "I wasn't in the mood to recapture you."

"But that doesn't explain why you're helping me now."

Cissnei walked over to the Buster Sword, reaching out with one hand and almost touching the textured grip of the big weapon. "You're what's left," she said at last. "His legacy. He wanted to keep you safe. For his sake, I…" she trailed off.

"And Aerith?"

The Turk looked at her sharply. "Don't you know? Gainsborough was his girlfriend."

Tifa nodded slowly, remembering their conversation in the park. "I didn't know for sure. I guessed it, though." She sighed. "I still don't know if I can trust you. Why choose to help me or Aerith now? What made you turn against Shinra? What changed?"

"Besides what happened to Zack?" Cissnei's voice was hoarse. "Bringing down the Sector 7 plate. There were a lot of innocent people down there, but the president doesn't care. He would've sacrificed half the city to take out AVALANCHE. That's not someone I want to work for."

The dark-haired mercenary hesitated. "And you're sure AVALANCHE was under the plate when it fell? They couldn't have escaped?"

"I'm sorry. They were dead before the pillar was destroyed."

In her heart, Tifa had known it was true, but hearing it confirmed took her breath away. Barret. Jessie. Biggs, Wedge, Johnny, and Marlene. "I should've been there." She clenched her fists in helpless rage, against herself and the Shinra. "I could have helped them. I let them down, but if there's anything I can still salvage out of this disaster, I have to try." She looked squarely at the Turk. "I don't have a lot of options short of storming the Shinra building. You may be lying about everything, but I could use your help."

Cissnei turned to face her, sticking out one gloved hand. "For Zack," she said.

"For Aerith," Tifa added, taking the Turk's hand and shaking it, sealing their partnership. "Let's take her back."

* * *

Aerith pressed her back against the glass wall of the cylindrical chamber. For what little good it did. The observation cell was less than twenty feet across and half as tall. There wasn't much room to maneuver and no escape save through the locked door and the elevator currently occupied by the creature Hojo had brought in with her.

It was a cross between a big cat and a wolf, but notably different from either species. The scars and tattoos covering its body made it look fierce and wild. Even though its humped shoulder stood only as high as Aerith's waist, the bristling fur in shades of red and orange made it look even bigger. It's long, lion-like tail lifted when the creature spotted her, sticking straight out behind it in a show of aggression. She could swear there was actually a small flame flickering at the end of the tail.

The flower girl clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering. She had faced Turks, mutants, and criminals in her twenty-two years. Her life had been dangerous even before she had begun living in the slums of Midgar and it certainly hadn't gotten any safer since then. Death was a constant under the plate: Murder, disease, monster attack, accident… it happened every day, sometimes for no reason at all. Aerith was prepared for death.

She wasn't prepared for this.

One of her balled up fists slammed against the glass wall. Nothing. Not that she had expected it. For good measure, she kicked back with one booted foot. The glass didn't even shudder.

"Why so uncooperative?" the lab-coat wearing man outside the chamber asked. He pushed up his glasses, a gleeful sneer lighting his features under his lank, stringy black hair. His name was Hojo. "I'm lending a hand to two endangered species. Both yours and its are on the brink of extinction. Without me, you precious animals will all disappear."

"You can't do this," Aerith said, struggling to keep her voice steady.

Hojo gave a theatrical sigh. "It's necessary. Our study of your Cetra genetic structure is taking too much time, and you likely won't survive until its completion. We'll need to breed you, and preferably produce an offspring that will last a while."

The young woman in the chamber felt a hot surge of angry humiliation. How dare he treat her – treat _anyone_ – this way. Like she was nothing more than a specimen. An animal. Breeding stock for his sick experiments.

She wanted to glare at the scientist, but she didn't dare take her eyes off the red-furred creature slowly advancing towards her.

The other specimen regarded her with one surprisingly intelligent ochre eye. The other was scarred and closed from an old injury. The creature bared its teeth, the prelude for an attack or worse. "Enough of this charade."

Aerith blinked. Had the creature just spoken? "I'm through playing your game," it continued in a deep, accented voice. It backed off again, tail relaxing, sitting back on its haunches.

A high-pitched peal of laughter came from the bespectacled scientist. "You almost had me going, Thirteen. I was wondering if you were actually going to go through with it. You have been here for a long time, after all. Maybe long enough to consider taking advantage of the situation."

"You disgust me, Hojo," Thirteen said, looking away dismissively. He faced Aerith. "I apologize for frightening you, but I was hoping to take the doctor unawares."

Hojo laughed again. "And you failed. Back on the elevator." With a growl, the creature stepped back onto the circular platform at the center of the chamber, which descended slowly to the floor below. When the elevator shaft closed again, Aerith finally felt safe enough to turn and look out to the lab outside her transparent cell. Observation walkways surrounded the chamber, everything decked out in stainless steel, clean and sterile. Computers and sensory devices lined the walls, blinking and humming as they went about whatever tasks they were set to.

"Well that didn't go the way you planned, did it?" she asked, defiant.

A thin eyebrow arched over her captor's glasses. "What makes you say that? I got exactly what I wanted. As I always do."

Aerith stared. "Are you blind? Thirteen didn't play along with your perverted scheme."

Hojo merely smiled. "Tell me… how do you feel?" The Cetra pressed her lips together, refusing to humor the man any longer. Her limbs were still trembling with adrenaline letdown and impotent rage at her humiliation. Hojo's smile broadened. "You don't need to answer. The sensors in the chamber are recording everything. Electronic impulses, temperature, stress, blood flow, facial muscle movement, everything. You have no secrets." He clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing back and forth in front of the cell. "Thirteen was never meant to impregnate you, silly thing. You can't cross-breed different species like that. I simply wanted to see your reaction."

"What's the point of this?" Aerith asked. "Why are you doing this to me? I'm already here. You're already running tests. Why the mind games?"

"Because you still have hope," Hojo said. "You're holding on to some shred of belief you'll escape or someone will rescue you. You resist. Maybe not consciously, but you resist nonetheless. We can't have that. You are Shinra property now. You are _my_ property. This is _my_ domain." His voice hardened suddenly, going from conversational to threatening in an instant. "Don't you think I could've have administered something to Red Thirteen to _force_ him to mate with you? That I couldn't drug you into enjoying it?"

Aerith's blood went cold. "You wouldn't." Her voice quavered and she hated herself for it.

Hojo approached the wall of the chamber, pressing his hands and face against it. "I will do whatever I have to for science. If that involves forcing you to breed with any sample in this lab, I would." He backed away again, shaking his head and looking up at the ceiling. "I'm a professor. This was a lesson. One you must never forget. You are nothing here."

"You're crazy," the flower girl breathed. She found she was shaking again, and she hugged herself, trying to still her trembling limbs. "You're an insane monster."

The scientist gave another sneering smile. "I recall your mother saying the same thing to me once when she was in your place." He turned away. "We're done for now. Guards! Take it back to its cell." He walked to a nearby console and began typing at it. A pair of uniformed sentinels opened the observation chamber to escort Aerith out.

She felt as if she might hyperventilate. The reminder of Ifalna, her dead birth mother, was too much. Her breathing was shallow and dark spots danced at the corners of her eyes. The shaking was getting worse. "You bastard," she growled between grit teeth. "You bastard!" Her voice rose to a scream. "I hate you!"

Hojo chuckled, not even bothering to look at her. "Excellent. Your hatred will provide a useful data point."

Aerith lunged at the maniac, but the guards caught her before she made it two steps, dragging her out of the lab and back to the tiny cell they kept her in between tests. Tears threatened to spill from her emerald eyes as she heard Hojo's chuckle turn into a full laugh.

* * *

It had been a long, exhausting climb from the edge of Wall Market all the way to the upper plate. Over one hundred and fifty feet straight up, through a jungle of cables and twisted, broken train tracks leftover from the destruction of the Sector 7 plate. A difficult path, but a necessary one. No trains were running between the slums and the upper city right now. If Tifa had been at full health, it wouldn't have been as much of a strain, but the partially-healed bullet wound in her chest ached with every motion.

Cissnei's presence had been a good motivator. The ex-SOLDIER would be damned before she let a Turk beat her in a physical contest. It was with a small amount of petty satisfaction that she saw the copper-haired girl out of breath when they finally climbed onto the plate's surface.

They hadn't talked much on the way up. Tifa had been mostly wrapped up in her own thoughts and Cissnei was not inclined to be social towards her. What few words they had shared had not been pleasant. Cissnei had told the mercenary about the way AVALANCHE had met its end. They had fought to protect Sector 7, but – with his compatriots out of commission – Barret had been forced to battle Reno of the Turks by himself. He hadn't survived.

Barret had been loud and abrasive and bossy, but Tifa had never wished ill upon the man. She even admired the strength of his convictions. His death – and the deaths of the others – were more weights on her conscience.

The two of them rested for a bit in the mouth of an alleyway in Sector 0, the central section of the circular city of Midgar. The Shinra building loomed over them, imposing and threatening. Seeing it again so close brought all kinds of memories back to Tifa's mind. Her training… her acceptance into SOLDIER… Zack… Sephiroth. She had had a life here, of a kind. Not always pleasant and certainly never bright, but it had been her existence for a while.

"I hate this place," she said aloud. Cissnei didn't respond. "I don't suppose you have a plan for getting us inside."

The shorter woman stood, brushing off her black suit. "I do, but you're not going to like it."

"Why not?"

Cissnei held out a hand. "Can I see Zack's sword?"

Tifa twisted her head slightly, regarding the Turk for a moment with narrowed eyes. Hesitantly, she took the Buster Sword from her back and handed it to the copper-haired woman. Cissnei had to use two hands to hold it, her arms shaking with the effort of lifting the heavy weapon. She stared at the sword almost reverently. "Thank you," she said, turning away and taking a few steps to set the sword blade-down against a nearby wall. "This makes things easier." When she turned back, there was a cloth mask covering her nose and mouth.

"What are you –" Before Tifa could finish the question, Cissnei raised a gloved hand and snapped her fingers. All at once, a swarm of Shinra troopers emerged from the nearby alleys and out of doors, peeking over the edge of rooftops. The red-eyed woman turned to the Turk with a snarl. "Traitor!" Even as the words left her mouth, a smoking cannister dropped from above. Knockout gas.

It was over, but Tifa wasn't going to go quietly without some kind of satisfaction. She took a long step forward and punched Cissnei square in her masked jaw. With her injury and the gas already taking effect, it wasn't her strongest punch, but the blow knocked the other woman back into the nearest building. She hadn't even tried to block.

Her legs gave out and Tifa dropped to her knees weakly. "So…" she slurred. "All that stuff about Zack… it was just talk. What would… he say?" She fell to one side, consciousness fading again.

Before she went under, she heard Cissnei's voice as if from a great distance. "Tseng. I've captured the missing sample."

_Aerith… I'm so sorry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:The more things change, the more they stay the same.


	7. Violence Against Neighbors VII: Breakout/Outbreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tifa and Aerith have both been captured by the Shinra, but something even worse is happening in the depths of the Science Department. An ancient evil is stirring, and a new crisis begins.

The tiny, metal-walled cell was cold and cramped. Aerith sat alone on the uncomfortable cot with her face pressed into her bent knees. She was shivering. The thin prisoners' jumpsuit she had been given was insufficient for holding in heat and she was hungry. She knew the isolation, the subsistence rations and the temperature were all part of Hojo's attempts to dehumanize her, but the knowledge did little to help.

She consoled herself with thoughts of the future. After she had been rescued. She held on to her belief, if for no other reason than to frustrate the professor. In her mind's eye, Tifa – her guardian angel – opened the door to her cell, hale and hearty, already recovered from her near-fatal wounding and ready to take her back home. Or maybe they would leave Midgar altogether and go somewhere safe and beautiful where trees and flowers could grow without having to be urged from the barren ground.

The lovely image of a verdant paradise – her very own promised land – was shattered in an instant when a vision of Tifa lying bleeding in the dirt of Sector 6 intruded on her daydreams.

Aerith rocked her head back, thumping it against the wall of her cell. "No," she said out loud. "Can't think of that. She'll survive. Tifa's strong. She'll come for me."

Through the door to her cell, she heard noises. The sound of marching footsteps and voices. Rising from her bed, Aerith crept to the door, pressing her ear against the metal. Were they coming for her again already? She felt like it had been only an hour or two since the last batch of tests and scans. Then again, what courtesy could she expect from the Shinra?

But no… there seemed to be too many pairs of footsteps. More than three. And the sound of something heavy being dragged down the hall. The cell next to hers opened, loud enough that Aerith jumped in place, certain it was her own door sliding into wall, and there was a staccato thud as the heavy object was pushed inside, falling onto the floor. Another prisoner.

Or a body.

"Hojo will be happy to have this sample back," a male voice said. "Especially after the other one was killed."

"They should have let the Turks handle it instead of letting the army get involved." This was a female voice. "We could've had both samples alive instead of just one."

There was a noise from the next cell, a stirring. "You lying bitch," The words were hoarse and slurred and muffled, barely understandable.

The female voice answered, cold and unsympathetic. "I'm a Turk. What did you expect? Enjoy your stay, Lockhart. You'll be here for a while."

Aerith didn't hear the end of the exchange, didn't even notice when the door of the neighboring cell slid closed again. Was it possible? She didn't move, didn't even dare to breathe, as if her discovery was some sort of spell that would be broken if she made too much noise. She waited until the footsteps receded, then waited even longer, making sure there were no guards left behind.

At last, the flower girl took a deep breath. "Tifa?" No answer. She risked speaking a bit louder. "Tifa is that you?"

"Aerith?"

The Cetra almost laughed despite their predicament, relieved beyond words to know her friend was alive. "I can't believe you're here! How's your wound? Are you okay?"

A faint snort of laughter came through the dividing wall. "I should be asking you that question. I'm all right. Recovering. But what about you? Have they done anything to you?"

"Tests. Scans. Injections… mind games. Nothing permanent."

Tifa sounded closer now, like she was pressed against the wall. "Good… I've been so worried." A brief silence. "I'm sorry, Aerith. It's my fault they caught you, and now…"

Aerith raised her hand, pressing it against the wall. She had a sudden, clear vision of Tifa doing the same in her own cell, and she smiled. "You have nothing to apologize for. We're both here. We'll both get out somehow."

"Yeah… yeah we will." Aerith could hear the dark promise in her friend's tone. "There are scores to settle."

* * *

"I believe you were told specifically not to involve yourself in this situation, Cissnei." Tseng didn't look at her, instead staring out the window of his office at the thousand tiny lights of Midgar glowing below them, hands clasped behind his back. The room was functional and utilitarian; bare of all decoration. There was nothing in it to hint at the man's origin in Wutai, a necessary precaution after the war between his home country and Shinra. "And I'm sure my orders to all the Turks involved in the Zirconaide situation were clear. You were to stay out of sight until things at HQ changed." The long-haired leader of the Turks looked over his shoulder at her. "I can't protect you now that you're back."

Cissnei stood at attention, not as a soldier, but to display her pride. Her back was straight, her hands at her sides, and her brown eyes were fixed on her superior. "I was given a mission, Tseng. You know better than anyone… the Turks always finish the job."

Tseng grunted in either annoyance or approval. It was difficult to tell with him. "Well since you're here, there's no going back." He turned from the window and approached her, gazing down at her with his dark eyes, which flicked momentarily to the fading bruise on her jaw. A souvenir from Lockhart's punch. Cissnei had used a bit of materia to bring down the swelling, but it was still tender. "You have your new orders?"

"Yes, sir."

A pause. Unusual for Tseng. "Any regrets?"

"I don't know what you mean." Her voice was steady, but Cissnei was now looking past Tseng, unable to meet his eyes.

"Your past," the leader of the Turks said. "You're going to have to let it go. Whatever you felt or feel about Zack Fair, whatever your feelings for the company are right now. It's time to move on."

The young woman looked up at Tseng. "I'm a Turk. We don't let our personal feelings interfere with our jobs."

A faint not-quite-a-smile flitted across her superior's face. "Of course." He moved to sit behind his desk, already turning his attention to his monitor. "You'd better get going then."

"Yes, sir."

Cissnei left his office without hesitation. Tseng was right. It was time to leave the past behind.

* * *

Tifa was dozing on the thin mattress of her cell when the alarms started blaring. For a moment, she was fifteen again, awakened from a deep sleep in the SOLDIER barracks by another drill. The pitch and pattern of the alarm was familiar from her time living in this building: an intruder alert. She was up in an instant, leaping to her feet and reaching back instinctively for the Buster Sword. It wasn't there of course. She didn't know where Cissnei had taken it. The dark-haired woman shook her head. She would defend herself hand-to-hand if she needed to, the way she had before Zack had given her the weapon.

Although it seemed unlikely it would be necessary. Whatever the emergency was, it didn't appear to concern her or Aerith. Tifa went to the door and leaned close, listening intently. Over the loud siren, she heard a faint commotion. People were moving in the vicinity, but she couldn't discern how many or what they were doing. A stab of panic went through her slender frame. What if they were moving Aerith? Taking her away to some more secure location? Tifa might never find her friend again.

She was just about to shout the other woman's name when her door slid open, revealing a familiar face. Tifa bared her teeth in a snarl, moving with Mako-augmented speed to grab the young woman on the other side of the portal by the throat and slamming her against the opposite wall. "Big mistake," she hissed, loud enough to be heard over the alarms. "You're going to regret tricking me."

Instead of answering, Cissnei's brown eyes shifted to one side. Tifa followed her gaze to see Aerith emerging from her own open cell, dressed in her own clothes again instead of the prison jumpsuit she said she had been given. Her emerald eyes took in the situation, flicking from one face to the other, and her step faltered. "Tifa… what's going on? She said she was with you."

The ex-SOLDIER didn't respond to the question. She released the Turk and gathered Aerith in her arms, hugging her tightly. "I'm so glad to see you again," she said, her voice heavy with gratitude. "Are you okay?" The flower girl nodded against Tifa's shoulder, hugging her back. "Thank the Planet," Tifa breathed.

After a moment, she disengaged herself from the other woman's embrace and turned to find Cissnei rubbing her throat. "I guess, I…" Tifa worked her jaw for a moment, searching for the right phrase. "Well I don't know, _should_ I thank you? What's your game?"

"Exactly what it looks like," Cissnei said. "We're getting out of here."

"Really?" Tifa asked in a challenging tone. "Was this your plan all along? Why didn't you tell me?"

For a moment, the cool façade of the young Turk cracked, frustration leaking through. "Your capture needed to look convincing or they wouldn't have allowed me the freedom to finish the job. I couldn't trust you to act the part. It needed to be real."

Tifa grit her teeth and shook her head, her long hair waving behind her with the motion. She glanced over at Aerith. "She's too smart," she said. Aerith gave a slight nod, and Tifa was confident the other woman had caught her meaning. They would have to watch Cissnei closely. Her crimson eyes found the dark-suited girl again. "Were these alarms part of your plan, too?"

Cissnei looked troubled. "No. They're a good distraction, but this is something else. I'm not sure what's going on."

"Let's just take advantage of it and go," Aerith suggested anxiously.

"Right," Cissnei agreed. "But first…" she slipped past the two women and walked to a gurney sitting against one wall. She whipped off the white sheet covering the stretcher, revealing the Buster Sword lying on the bed along with the materia that had been taken from them when they were captured. The Turk glanced at Tifa. "Maybe now you'll trust me a little more," she said drily. Tifa just took the weapon and secured it to her back, throwing the copper-haired woman an inscrutable look. Cissnei shrugged and led the way out of the prison.

They reached a fork in the hall and Cissnei beckoned the other two women close. "We're on Floor 67 right now. We'll head through the Science Department and use the freight elevator." The trio jogged down the corridor, past a series of offices to where Hojo's specimens were kept. Halfway there, the alarms suddenly stopped.

"Is that good or bad?" Aerith asked.

"Both," Tifa and Cissnei said at the same time. "It might mean the building isn't locked down quite as tight," Tifa continued. "But it also means there's less confusion, less chance of us slipping out without being noticed."

Cissnei nodded soberly. "Let's hurry."

Despite her words, the Turk stopped short when she entered the specimen storage area. Coming up behind her, Tifa could see why. One of the tanks, a steel container like a bunker, had burst open and whatever had been within had escaped. A trail of what looked like blood led from the metal prison and through the big room, winding between boxes and cages into the shadows at the far end of the chamber.

"Jenova," Cissnei murmured.

Tifa felt a shock run through her body at the word. "What did you say?" she asked sharply, grabbing the shorter woman's arm.

"The Jenova specimen escaped."

"Tell me Shinra didn't bring Jenova here," Tifa said. "After what happened in Nibelheim, tell me Shinra wasn't dumb enough to move that monster to Midgar." Cissnei just stared at her. "And now it's free. This is not good."

Aerith pressed close. "What does that mean? What's Jenova?"

Tifa shook her head. "No time to explain now. Let's just get out of here."

But they had only gone halfway through the room – following the trail left by Jenova – when they stopped again, this time at the sight of the broken glass observation chamber. More specifically, what lay at the bottom of the chamber. When Aerith saw it, she gasped and grabbed Tifa's hand. "That's… Thirteen! What happened to him?"

"Him?" Tifa echoed, looking askance at the creature lying motionless in the shattered remains of its cell. It was a mess of red fur and bizarre purplish growths, as if it had been infected by some terrible disease. From here, she couldn't tell if it was still alive. For Thirteen's sake, she hoped he wasn't. "I don't know… could Jenova have done this?" She looked at Cissnei who didn't answer, but Tifa could see the disgust in her brown eyes. She tugged at Aerith's hand. "Come on. We have to keep moving." The flower girl's horrified gaze lingered on the remains of the creature, but she followed dutifully.

"What's going on here?" she asked in a hollow voice.

Tifa pressed her lips into a thin line. "Nothing good."

The trio reached the freight elevator and took it up to the next level, the main lab. All of them were jumpy, seeing from the mess on the floor that Jenova had also used the car. Tifa's skin seemed to crawl. She felt slightly better when they left the elevator and walked through the lab, but Aerith tightened her grip on Tifa's hand as if recalling her time here under the cruel mercies of Professor Hojo. Tifa remembered the man from her time in Shinra. He had always seemed creepy, but after hearing what he had put her friend through, the former SOLDIER would be happy to throw him from the highest window in this building.

Just as she was about to ask where all the technicians and guards were, Tifa spotted the first body. It lay crumpled in the bloody swath left by the escaped specimen. Cissnei rushed over to the corpse and knelt by it, examining it for clues. When she rose, she looked puzzled. "Claw marks." The next body looked as if it had been drained of blood. Another was strangled. After that, she stopped looking. Through the normal Turk coldness, Tifa could see the young woman was shaken.

They were forced to go up another floor since the Science Department was inaccessible by elevator. Their quickest way down was to ascend to the sixty-ninth level of the building. Cissnei hustled Tifa and Aerith up the stairs and into a waiting area near the elevators. "Stay here," she said. "I need to find out what's going."

"Are you kidding?" Tifa asked, nervous and irritated. "There's no reason for us to spend any more time in this slaughterhouse than necessary."

The Turk seemed to take strength from the taller woman's anger, straightening up and staring at her coolly. "Without intel, we don't know what we'll be walking into when we reach the ground floor. Stay here. Wait. This won't take long." She walked to the door and looked at the other two over her shoulder. "And don't bother trying to leave without me." She lifted a gloved hand, revealing the keycard she held between two fingers. "The elevator won't work for you without this." With that she was gone.

Tifa shook her head and glanced at Aerith, who was making a face. "You're right," the brown-haired woman said. "She's too smart."

Only a few minutes passed before Cissnei returned, pale under her auburn hair. She didn't speak until they were in the glass and steel external elevator that threaded up and down the entire seventy floor edifice of the Shinra building. The Turk slid the keycard through a reader and selected the third level. They were down to sixty when she finally broke her silence.

"The president is dead."

Tifa blinked, stunned. "What?"

"How?" Aerith asked at the same time. "Was it Jenova?"

Cissnei shook her head, chewing on her bottom lip. It made her look even younger. She looked squarely at Tifa. "They're saying it was Sephiroth."

The mercenary reached out blindly to grip Aerith's arm, feeling as if she were falling. "That's not possible," she heard herself say as if from a great distance. "He's dead."

"That's what the reports said," Cissnei agreed. "But they found the Masamune near the president's body. Only Sephiroth can use that swor-"

"He's dead!" Tifa insisted, voice rising to a shout, loud in the confined space. She was aware the other two women were staring at her and she took a deep breath to calm herself. "There's no way he could've survived. It's not possible."

They were silent for a moment, descending past the thirtieth floor. "The president of Shinra, Inc. is dead…" Aerith said, half to herself. "What does this mean for us?"

"Rufus Shinra, the president's son, has taken control. Business will continue." Cissnei peered down through the glass wall of the elevator where the twinkling lights of moving cars and the city could be seen. "They've sealed the building. It's completely surrounded by an army battalion and a squad from SOLDIER."

Tifa watched the numbers indicating the floor drop, counting down the seconds until they were out of time for conversation. "You have a plan," she said. It wasn't a question.

Cissnei looked at her again. "You remember what's on the third floor?"

"The mezzanine, the store, a couple of display models of…" Tifa trailed off. She nodded. "I see what you're thinking. Will they have fuel?"

For the first time, Cissnei gave a genuine smile. "They do now."

Aerith looked back and forth between the two of them. "I don't suppose you're going to let me in on this plan."

Tifa took her hand, eyes fixed on the floor indicator. "Just stick close to me. We're busting out of here."

* * *

The display near the vehicle proclaimed it as the "Hardy-Daytona", a motorcycle with a VE4-Ge type engine capable of propelling the bike over 200 km/h. The name and the specifications didn't matter at all to Aerith. All she knew was that it was loud and uncomfortable. She clung to Tifa, arms around the other woman's waist, praying the motorcycle wouldn't tip over or she wouldn't fall off. It rumbled beneath her with a powerful noise and vibration, making her feel like her teeth would rattle out of her skull. Aerith squeezed her eyes shut, muscles tensed.

"Hang on!" Tifa shouted, twisting the throttle and revving the engine. With a roar, the motorcycle sped forward, straight towards a plate glass window overlooking Sector 0.

"Wait, I thought we were going through the fron-" Too late. The window shattered around them, sending a rain of broken glass arcing out into the night. For a breathless moment they were airborne, and Aerith felt a scream rising up through her lungs. It died stillborn when the tires hit concrete with a thud that went straight to her bones. Their jump had landed them on one of the long highways winding around Midgar.

Something slammed onto the road behind them and Aerith twisted to see Cissnei riding her own motorcycle, looking somehow stylish in her impossibly unruffled black suit. Police sirens wailed further behind as the army battalion guarding the Shinra building noticed their noisy escape. With a squealing of tires, the two motorbikes growled down the highway.

It didn't take long for Shinra to respond. Additional engine noises came up behind them, accompanied by Cissnei's shouts of warning. Aerith was forced to release Tifa's waist for a harrowing moment while the former SOLDIER drew the Buster Sword, holding it with one hand and steering with the other. She had been scared before, but it was absolutely terrifying when Tifa began weaving the bike back and forth, varying her speed, slashing down Shinra troopers with her massive weapon when they got too close.

Aerith dared to turn her head enough to check on Cissnei. The copper-haired Turk was maneuvering her own bike as effectively as Tifa was, dodging between attacking Shinra forces and occasionally slashing at them with her massive red-and-white shuriken. One expertly timed throw scythed through two troopers before looping back around to where Cissnei could catch the weapon again.

_I won't be useless baggage_ , Aerith thought fiercely. She freed one hand, concentrating on the green materia attached to the bracelet on that wrist. Warm energy flowed through her body, signaling the magic's readiness. She pointed the hand at another Shinra motorcycle trooper approaching from the right. Tifa was occupied fighting off a similar soldier on the left. Aerith clenched her jaw and let the spell go. A blast of fire engulfed the rider and his bike wobbled and collapsed, taking down a second Shinra cycle behind it.

Tifa cut down her own adversary and half turned to address her. "Nice shot!"

Aerith almost smiled at the encouragement.

The other Hardy-Daytona approached, driving close enough the two drivers could reach out and touch each other. "Follow me!" Cissnei shouted to be heard over the wind and the engines. She zipped ahead, bypassing the next exit and driving straight towards what appeared to be an unfinished part of the highway blocked off by orange barriers and cones.

"What is she doing?" Tifa asked. Nonetheless, she followed, gunning her own cycle's motor.

Cissnei's bike slipped between the barricades and soared off into space. Aerith forced herself to watch as Tifa's motorcycle did the same, though all she wanted to do was bury her face against her friend's back. Below them, unseen until they went over the edge, was another stretch of highway crossing beneath them. With a pair of rattling thuds, the Hardy-Daytonas landed, slowing momentarily as their riders regained their equilibrium, and roared off down the gradual ramp leading out of Midgar.

Their last jump had thrown off the remnants of the pursuit. They were escaping. They were free. The fear of imprisonment and their wild escape drained away and Aerith realized she was laughing. "We made it!" she cried. "We actually made it!"

Tifa looked over shoulder with a tight grin. "You almost sound like you had fun."

Aerith squeezed the other woman in a brief hug. She smiled back cheekily. "Wanna' do it again?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This concludes the "Violence Against Neighbors" Arc of "Seventh Circle". The implication going through this arc was that - without Cloud AND Tifa - our heroes keep losing ground. They progress, but more slowly and at greater cost. Nonetheless, this new team has managed to escape Midgar at last. It took longer than I thought it would... it's just a coincidence that the arc ended after seven chapters.
> 
> Other things... you may have wondered why I chose to change "Red XIII" to "Red Thirteen" or just "Thirteen". One of the things I try to do (and I doubt I always succeed) is to write every story as if the reader has no experience in the fandom the story is part of. This may not be the best idea, as it means I do have to take time explaining ideas fanfiction readers are already familiar with. Anyways, my point is that "XIII" is kind of an odd way to address someone. Is it Red the Thirteenth? Is it Red "Zhiii"? Furthermore, even in the canon of the game, do you think Cloud and company always addressed Nanaki as the full "Red XIII"? Or would it just be Red OR Thirteen? I've spent too much time justifying this. Moving on.
> 
> Materia usage... this is another one that goes with the last point. For better or worse, I treat my writing - even fanfiction writing - more seriously than I should, so I felt the need to translate the way materia is used to make it less video-gamey. So yeah, it works similarly to the way it's explained in the game, but there is no "Bolt", "Bolt2", "Cure", etc. It's more vague than that. Same with limit breaks. Braver was implied in Chapter 1. Aerith used Healing Wind on Tifa in Chapter 5. You can't CALL it that, but that's what I was implying. In the same vein, Aerith's guard stick is never mentioned. It's difficult to justify it appearing and disappearing between disguises and captures and dialogue scenes, so I choose to have Aerith focus on magic instead of giving her a weapon.
> 
> Anyways, I'd love to get some more feedback on the story, as its getting more difficult to justify the time spent working on this without reviews. So, please, tell me what you think. Comments, concerns, complaints, ideas?
> 
> Regardless, next time, we start the "Violence Against Self" arc with "Five Years Ago".


	8. Violence Against Self I: Five Years Ago...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tifa, Aerith, and Cissnei have escaped from Midgar, but questions remain. What is Jenova? Why is Tifa so convinced Sephiroth is dead? What happened on that day five years ago?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Man can do violence to himself and his own blessings: and for this he in the second round must aye deplore with unavailing penitence for his crime, whoe'er deprives himself of life and light, in reckless lavishment his talent wastes, and sorrows there where he should dwell in joy."
> 
> \- The Divine Comedy (Hell or The Inferno), Part 5, Canto XI, by Dante Alighieri

They left the road shortly after reaching the barrens surrounding Midgar, wary of pursuit, riding their stolen motorcycles behind rock formations and out of sight of the main highway as much as possible. It made for a long, exhausting, and often painful day, but it was better to be safe than sorry. The sun was rising when they left the city, and it was dipping to the horizon again by the time they finally left the barrens behind.

Aerith was already overwhelmed seeing the expansive desert surrounding the city where she had grown up, the massive, seemingly never-ending wasteland, topped by a vast sky, bigger and more open than she had ever imagined. When they stopped to rest, it was silent. Quieter than it had been even in the Sector 5 church. The air was fresh, clear of the ever-present scent of Mako she had lived with her entire life.

But when they reached the end of the barrens and color returned to the world, the flower girl was speechless. Green grass, wildflowers, the darkening blue of the sky shading to yellow and orange in the west, and the sight and sound of the ocean in the distance. She had heard of such things of course, had dreamed of them on occasion, but she could scarcely believe she was seeing it with her own eyes.

"It's beautiful," she said aloud as the trio walked towards the town where they would spend the night. They had parked the motorcycles a distance away, under a small copse of trees, hiding them as best they could to cover their tracks. Aerith would have gladly camped out there, but Cissnei made the salient point there would be other opportunities to sleep outdoors and not so many to rest at a comfortable inn.

Tifa, walking at her side a bit behind the Turk, threw her a faint smile. Her exuberance after their escape had waned in the ensuing day and she seemed sad and thoughtful again, haunted by whatever demons the reappearance of Jenova and possibly Sephiroth had awakened for her. "A lot different from Midgar, isn't it?"

The Cetra nodded. "The city is all I've known. Concrete and steel and rust and filth. Only at home and the church could I see even a glimpse of what nature might look like."

"That's… cruel," Tifa said. "Someone like you was never meant to be stuck in that dead city."

Aerith caught her friend's eye and smiled brightly. "I'm out now," she reminded the former SOLDIER. "Thanks to you."

"Yeah…"

A sigh slipped from the brown-haired woman's lips. "I'm worried about mom, though," she admitted. "I wish we had had time to tell her I was safe."

Cissnei, leading the way, turned to face the two other women, walking backwards to address Aerith. "I still have some contacts in Midgar. I'll get a message to her. Elmyra Gainsborough of the Sector 5 slums, right?"

"How did you…?" Then Aerith remembered. Cissnei was a Turk. They had been watching her for years. "I'd appreciate that."

The grass under their feet gave way to cobblestones as they entered the little town of Kalm. It seemed humble and rustic after Midgar, but it looked pleasant enough to Aerith, despite the little signs that the town had fallen on hard times recently. Peeling paint. Worn clothes. Quiet despair in the citizens' faces. She had seen similar things in the slums.

"This used to be a mining town," Cissnei explained, keeping her voice low to keep from being overheard by other pedestrians. "There are mines to the south of here. Mythril mostly, but some other precious metals, too. A couple years ago, monsters appeared in the tunnels. Just a few at first, but it got so bad they had to shut down operations. Without a source of income, Kalm is sliding into poverty."

"Where did the monsters come from?" Aerith asked.

Tifa stared at Cissnei, and the shorter woman looked back, a challenge in her brown eyes. The mercenary took a deep breath. "About that…" she said. "Let's get settled at the inn here, and then… I have a story for you."

* * *

_"I left home when I was only thirteen. It wasn't a… well-planned departure. I basically ran away without telling anyone, so I had to hitch-hike my way from Nibelheim to Midgar. It took months, but I had training before I left and it was good conditioning for what I would find when I enlisted in the Shinra army. First there was the basic training, then the advanced training. Then the testing. They didn't want to let me in to SOLDIER, but I persevered, jumped through all their hoops, met all their standards."_

_"By the time I made Third-Class, I was fifteen. The Wutai war had depleted the ranks pretty badly, so they were forced to finally give me the Mako treatment. I had a few easy assignments. Milk runs, really, but that was okay. I expected that. What I didn't expect was to be tapped for a big mission so soon after joining SOLDIER."_

Tifa stared up at the young man standing before her, surprised and confused. He was tall, with spiky black hair spilling partway down his back, an easy grin, and bright blue eyes. A cross-shaped scar marred one cheek, but it made him look roguish more than it disfigured his face. A huge sword with a broad blade was strapped across his back. She knew him well. He was the First-Class SOLDIER who mentored all the hopefuls and the new inductees. It suited him. He was the terminally sociable type, always exuberant and friendly.

"Are you serious?" she asked, dubious. After over a year in Midgar, she had learned to be suspicious of everything anyone said. It was safer that way. "If Sephiroth is going on the mission, you don't need me. He doesn't even need _you_. Why are you asking me to come along?"

Zack Fair was unaffected by her words or her tone. "Hey, don't let the rumors fool you. Sephiroth is human like the rest of us… probably. Besides, there might be more going on in this mission than a faulty reactor and a few monsters. A couple extra hands might be needed, and I know you're good in a fight."

The fifteen-year-old put her hands on her hips, her crimson eyes – glowing brightly from her recent Mako treatment – narrowing in a glare. "I am, but that doesn't really answer my question. Why me? Why not another First or even a Second?"

"Oh, come on, Lockhart, why question it? Haven't you been looking for a chance to prove yourself? What better way than to go on a high-profile mission with me? And Sephiroth, too," he added, as if it were an afterthought.

Tifa shook her head. "I don't need pity, and I don't want help."

Zack sighed, putting his hands behind his head, elbows angled out. "Fine. If you don't want to go, I can't tell you the rest of it." He half turned, but kept one sky-blue eye on the younger SOLDIER.

She was being played. She knew he was baiting her, but the girl asked anyway. "The rest of it?"

"No, no," Zack said theatrically. "I can only share details with someone who's coming on the mission." He was a bad actor.

"Fine," Tifa growled. "You got me. What's so special about this assignment?"

Her superior grinned. "It's the reason we want you with us," he said. "We're shipping off to Nibelheim."

* * *

_"Wait!" Aerith jumped up from the bed where she had been sitting when Tifa began her story. "You knew Zack Fair?"_

_Tifa gave the flower girl an apologetic look. "I did." She nodded to Cissnei, who leaned against the wall of their room with her arms crossed under her breasts. "So did she." The busty ex-SOLDIER crossed the room to stand before Aerith, gazing into her green eyes. "Some of this… isn't going to be easy for you to hear. I'm sorry."_

_The other woman sat back down slowly, her face pale._

_"Anyways," Tifa continued, turning and pacing back across the room. "If Zack was expecting me to be doing backflips and cartwheels about going back home, he was disappointed. I had left Nibelheim for a reason, and I wasn't eager to go back. There were memories there I didn't want to face…"_

"How does it feel?" The voice was smooth, precise, controlled, and it cut into Tifa's thoughts like a sharp sword.

She wrenched her gaze from the familiar sight in front of her – the water tower, the town square, the bulk of the Shinra mansion overseeing the small village and behind them all, sharp and tinged blue with distance, the Nibel Mountains – to the striking figure leading their small contingent into town. He was taller even than Zack, with silver hair nearly as long as Tifa's own. He wore a black coat, the bottom fringe of which went to mid-calf, and the thin katana at his side must have been over a meter and a half long. Tifa had seen him before, stalking around the halls of the Shinra building, but this was the first time he had spoken to her. Her tongue cleaved to the top of her mouth, words failing her.

Sephiroth must have been used to such a non-response. He restated his question. "It's been a while since you've been home, right? So how does it feel?" He smiled faintly. "I wouldn't know. I don't have a hometown."

Zack walked up beside Tifa. The general didn't seem to intimidate him at all. "Oh? What about your parents?"

"My mother's name was Jenova," Sephiroth answered. "She died during childbirth. As for my father…" He chuckled, a mirthless sound, and shook his head. "Why am I talking about this?" He turned away, facing Nibelheim again. "Let's go."

_Cissnei stirred at her place near the window. "Is that what he said? That Jenova was his mother?"_

_"That's what he told us," Tifa affirmed with a nod. The Turk looked troubled, but didn't elaborate._

_"Jenova… that's the thing from the Shinra building, right?" Aerith asked. "It was Sephiroth's… mother?"_

_Tifa grimaced. "Not quite… but we'll get there."_

The three SOLDIERs entered the town on foot. No one was there to greet them. Not surprising. The monsters they had been sent to subdue were numerous. One had even attacked their transport on the way in, though it met with a swift end at the blade of Sephiroth's sword, the Masamune. Or maybe the citizens were afraid of the Shinra. It was a common enough sentiment in these rural villages. Tifa walked into the plaza on stiff legs, feeling as if she were dreaming.

"The Mako smell is pretty bad here," Sephiroth mused, staring up at the mountains. He turned again to face Zack and Tifa. "We're heading for the reactor in the morning, so make sure you get to sleep early." He paused. "Zack, you keep watch for now. Lockhart, feel free to visit your family and friends."

The fifteen-year-old almost objected, almost volunteered to stand watch instead rather than be given liberty to visit the people of Nibelheim, but she knew better than to question an order from the general, and she didn't really feel like explaining her reticence to her companions. She wandered the village aimlessly, moving slow. The few people who did see her and recognized her seemed surprised she had made it into SOLDIER. The conversations were brief and wary. They knew Tifa hadn't left home under the best circumstances. Her few friends from her youth were long gone. Everyone around her age had left town to find work elsewhere around the same time she had run away.

She stood in front of her old house for a long time before she went in, feeling it was her obligation to at least greet her father. The big building was empty, and she wasn't sure whether to feel sad or relieved. Her room was just as she had left it, and she spent a few minutes noodling on the big piano standing in one corner, letting her thoughts wander through the past.

Afterwards, Tifa stopped next door to fulfill another obligation. Claudia Strife looked a little older than she remembered, but she was still a vibrant woman, even after the tragedies she had suffered. Her blue eyes widened when she saw the young SOLDIER standing at the entrance of her small house and she lifted a hand to cover her mouth. There was a pause, a beat of uncertainty where anything might happen, then the blonde woman rushed over to hug her tightly.

"I'm so glad to see you safe, Tifa," Claudia said. "I mean… I got the money you sent me – you didn't need to do that, by the way – but I still wasn't sure you were all right." Tifa didn't dare respond, didn't even move her own arms from where they hung at her side. The older woman took a step back, but kept her warm hands on Tifa's shoulders. "Let me take a look at you." She smiled, an expression tinged by sadness. "So, this is a SOLDIER uniform? You look great! I hope the company is taking good care of you."

Tifa swallowed painfully. How could the older woman still be so kind to her? After everything that had happened? There had never been even the slightest hint of blame. "Miss Strife, I…"

_She shook her head, hearing her voice growing hoarse. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."_

_"What's wrong?" Aerith asked, concerned._

_"It's… nothing," Tifa said, waving away the question. "It's just not important."_

The young SOLDIER spent some time at the town's graveyard, staring at a small, innocuous tombstone put up seven years ago. Seven years… she couldn't believe it had been so long. Tifa wondered what the little boy who had been buried here might look like now. He would've been sixteen. Maybe he would've been the one to leave town and join SOLDIER. He could've been a hero, someone who would arrive at the last instant and rescue someone who needed it.

Instead, Cloud Strife was long dead.

Before she knew it, hours had passed and evening was settling over Nibelheim. She went back to the inn and climbed the stairs to the room the three SOLDIERs would be sharing. There would be no special accommodation for her just because she was a female. Tifa's superiors had made it very clear… if she wanted in to the program, she would be treated just like everyone else. She had grown used to it.

Sephiroth was standing at the window, gazing out at the town and the mountains beyond. He glanced over his shoulder at her when she reached the second floor. "Strange. I feel like I've seen this place before."

"That is weird," Tifa said at last, managing to overcome her nervousness at being addressed by the general. "I lived here for thirteen years and I feel like a stranger."

The corner of his lip actually lifted in a faint, knowing smirk. She couldn't look away from his unsettling, cat-like green eyes. "It seems your homecoming wasn't as pleasant as it might have been." Tifa didn't answer, and Sephiroth turned away. "We start early tomorrow. You should get some sleep."

Taking his advice, the fifteen-year-old changed and slipped into one of the three narrow beds. It was a long time before she fell asleep.

* * *

Tifa awoke late the next morning and had to rush to catch up with Zack and Sephiroth, throwing on her uniform and running a brush through her long hair. Her sprint to the end of town faltered when she saw the people gathered there. The two First-Class SOLDIERs of course, a young man holding a bulky camera, and one of the town elders.

He had aged. More than seemed right considering it had been only two years since Tifa had seen him last. His hair, once the same dark shade as her own, was now lightened with gray, as was his mustache. The thin face was lined, almost gaunt. Had she done this? If so, it was another guilty burden on her shoulders.

Brian Lockhart's hazel eyes – still so familiar – shifted to her as she approached, slipped away without recognition, then speared her with a stare. He stopped speaking mid-explanation, his jaw dropping when he realized who she was. She walked up behind the Firsts, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

"Hello, father," she said gravely.

His jaw worked silently for a moment, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Tifa, you…" he straightened as if coming to a decision. "I didn't expect to see you here." His tone was calm and formal, but he could no longer meet her eyes. Maybe he just didn't like what the Mako treatment had done to make her irises glow crimson. "You must be the reason these gentlemen say they don't need a guide to the reactor."

"That's right," she affirmed, willing her voice not to catch. "I'm going to lead them up the mountain."

She could see in his face he didn't like it, but he was either too proud to offer his opinion or thought she was too proud to accept his concern. Tifa wasn't sure which option was worse, but her heart ached when the man who had raised her turned away to address Sephiroth again, leaving recriminations or reconciliations for another time.

Or no time at all.

* * *

_"I knew those mountains well…. When I was younger, I forced myself to walk the trails almost daily. The cold air was exactly as I remembered it. The path hadn't changed in the two years I'd been gone, though the monsters attacked us frequently. I tried to pull my weight, but I couldn't even match up to Zack's talent, much less Sephiroth's."_

_"Any rumors you've heard about him don't do it justice. He was fast, strong, capable… not a single movement was wasted. Nothing was able to touch us."_

_"When we reached the reactor, the two Firsts left me outside to stand guard. I had the feeling they were expecting a different sort of trouble inside, but they wouldn't tell me what it was. Afterwards, Zack told me they had discovered monsters – mutants exposed to high concentrations of Mako – being grown in the depths of the power plant. Shinra was creating these creatures on purpose, but it wasn't the worst thing in that reactor."_

_"Sephiroth was changed when he came out. He didn't speak, but he practically seethed with anger. I could almost feel it radiating from him. Zack was jumpy, too. He didn't say much until we got back to town, and even then, he only told me the bare minimum: The general believed he had been created the same way the monsters in the reactor were. Sephiroth sat silent in our room at the inn. He didn't speak. He didn't eat. He didn't move."_

_"A few days passed. Sephiroth disappeared. We found him in the Shinra mansion. It was a big, old building on the edge of town where the Shinra officials had stayed back when they first surveyed the mountains. When I was a kid, we always thought it was a haunted house. Sometimes you could hear weird groans and roars and howls from deep inside."_

_"Zack went alone to confront the general in the depths of the mansion. He came back even more confused than before. Whatever crisis Sephiroth was going through, it wasn't over yet. He had always been different. Cold, distant, almost alien, but I couldn't help remembering him trying to relate when we arrived at Nibelheim, asking me how it felt to be home. What had happened to him?"_

She couldn't stay in the mansion anymore. It was too big, too eerie, and she felt a growing sense of threat from where Sephiroth had taken up residence in the library Zack had told her about. All Tifa wanted to do was leave Nibelheim. She hadn't wanted to come back in the first place, and now she was stuck here until the general emerged from whatever strange mood had come over him.

Tifa was just leaving her old house after another frustrated attempt at talking with her father. He was avoiding her. Always away on business whenever she came around. If they never talked about the issues between them, the awkwardness and uncertainty would never go away. Meanwhile, the other townspeople grew ever more resentful of the Shinra presence in their village. Only Miss Strife was still friendly with her, but that very kindness was why Tifa avoided her.

At this point, she was willing to face her fear of Sephiroth and confront him herself if it would help them leave faster, but Zack forbade it. He was down there again now, trying to talk some sense into the general. She wished him the best, but the sense of dread weighing her down didn't do much for her confidence.

It was surprising then when the doors of the Shinra mansion opened and the silver-haired SOLDIER strode through, walking with purpose. He entered the town square, paying no attention to her. His cat-like eyes scanned the village, a grimace of disgust on his face.

Tifa took a step forward. "General? What's wrong?"

"Traitors," the general said in a deep voice dripping with contempt. "Cowardly traitors. Here you sit in your little hovels, still hiding from your troubles like you have been for thousands of years, letting others fight and die to protect you. The Cetra then, Shinra now. Pathetic."

"What are you talking about?" She was baffled at his words and his tone.

He finally faced her, acknowledging her presence. "You're just like Fair. You know nothing about the history of your own people, much less mine. You should hide like the rest of them. Not that it will do you any good." Sephiroth raised an arm, the materia hanging from one wrist glittering. There was a flash of orange light and the inn burst into flames in an instant.

The fifteen-year-old stared, shocked at the sudden, unprovoked attack. There had been people in there. Before she could react, the general shifted his aim to another house behind her. "Stop!" she screamed.

He didn't listen. A second building was transformed into a pyre.

"Stop! Why are you doing this?!" Her fists were clenched, her eyes squeezed shut. "What did they do to you?!"

"You weren't paying attention," he said. His voice was still calm and precise, easily audible even over the crackling flames and the screams beginning to rise from all sides. The hand raised again, this time pointing at the Strife household.

Tifa reacted without thinking. Her horror and confusion vanished like fog in sunlight and she let out a primal scream, dashing forward to close the three meters separating them. She couldn't let him do this, she had to stop him. Her right fist drew back for a powerful punch and she threw it forward with all her Mako-enhanced strength and speed.

But Sephiroth was no longer there. He had slipped aside in an instant, raising a knee into her midsection. The breath was driven out of her body and she staggered back, holding her stomach, gasping for air. She fell to her knees, black spots dancing at the corners of her vision. When she raised her head, she saw Sephiroth still standing in place, unmoved by her attack. He was smirking, pointing at Miss Strife's home. Tifa lifted a hand, trying to stop him, trying to stop time itself. She attempted to scream, to warn Claudia to get out of her house, but she had no breath.

The building went up like a torch.

Tifa collapsed, tears streaming down her face. She'd failed them both now, mother and son. She still wasn't strong enough. Why was this happening?

He was cutting down the few survivors now, the Masamune flashing in the reddish glare of the flames. They were being slaughtered like animals, confused and helpless as they ran to imagined safety. The townspeople fell and Sephiroth stood, silhouetted against the fire like a demon or a god bringing down judgment. He smiled and Tifa hated him more in that instant than she had hated anything her entire life.

The girl struggled to her hands and knees, fighting the pain and the heat and the lack of air, fighting her own despair. She crawled towards her enemy. What she would do when she reached him she didn't know, but she had to try. Sephiroth saw her and glanced away dismissively. She was no threat to him. He walked out of her sight in the direction of the mountains.

"Tifa!" It was Zack's voice. He knelt at her side. "Tifa, are you okay? Did he hurt you?" He helped her to her feet where she swayed unsteadily, holding one arm against her stomach.

"The townspeople," Tifa started hollowly. "He… he butchered them."

Zack put a hand on her shoulder. "I know. I already checked for survivors, but... I'm sorry. I had no idea he would…" He trailed off. "Why is he doing this?"

"He's heading…" Tifa winced. "To the reactor."

The First-Class SOLDIER looked past the burning town to the mountains beyond. "Jenova," he said, almost to himself. "I'll go after him. You stay- "

Tifa shook her head. "I'm coming with you."

"You're already injured and you don't stand a chance against Sephiroth. Stay here."

"I don't care!" the fifteen-year-old straightened, glaring at Zack. "He destroyed my home. I don't care if all I manage to do is distract him for a second, I'm _not_ going to just sit here and let him go. Either take me with you or I'll follow you on my own."

Zack stared at her as if measuring her resolve, taking a deep breath through his teeth. "Fine," he said at last. "But don't rush into anything. If we have to fight him, you let me handle it, you hear me?" Tifa gave a reluctant nod, which Zack returned. "Let's go."

* * *

_"We followed Sephiroth into the Nibel Mountains. There was evidence of his passing everywhere: Dead monsters lay on both sides of the path. They hadn't even slowed him down. When we got to the reactor, we found…"_

There was a body crumpled near the door leading to the heart of the power plant, and Sephiroth's long sword lay beside it. Tifa knew right away who it was. She felt breathless, as if the general had knocked the wind out of her again. And in a way, he had. Without waiting for Zack, she hurried down the catwalk to drop to her knees beside the body.

"Papa…" the Third-Class SOLDIER breathed, calling him by the affectionate name she hadn't used since she was eight. "Sephiroth did this to you, didn't he?" She took his hand. It was already cold. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you. But… I won't let him get away with this. I swear it." Tifa glanced over her shoulder at where Zack was approaching, and she reached out blindly to take the Masamune in hand. Without waiting for the First, she ran through the door.

"Tifa, wait!" Zack shouted after her. She didn't listen.

Sephiroth was standing at the top of a metallic staircase. Pipes and tubes obscured the ceiling, like a nest of snakes writhing above them. Strange pods were lined up in rows, marching up the terraced chamber to where a sealed iron door pierced the thick wall. Above the door was one word: Jenova. The insane general stood before the portal with arms outstretched, like he was beseeching some deity to clear the path.

"Mother," he said. "I'm here to see you. Please… open this door."

Tifa didn't know what he was talking about. She didn't care. All she felt was rage and the sting of betrayal. This man had been a hero, an inspiration, one of the reasons she had joined SOLDIER, and he had destroyed everything, erased her past without effort or concern. "Sephiroth! How could you do this?! My father… the townspeople… and all for what?!"

She rushed up the stairs, her booted feet making the metal stairs ring with each step. SOLDIER training had included learning to wield various weapons. Swords were a part of it, but she had never used anything like the Masamune. If Tifa had been thinking more clearly, she would have left the long _naginata_ behind, but she wasn't planning on a protracted fight with the former hero. Murder was on her mind.

The man in the black coat turned towards her. He seemed more annoyed than surprised, as if her attack was an interruption to his very important business of talking to a sealed door. Tifa slashed down with the long sword using all her SOLDIER strength and speed. Sephiroth retreated a step, putting his back against the door and reducing the attack from a killing blow to a shallow cut across his chest. He didn't even seem to notice the wound, moving forward again and seizing the Masamune out of her hands with impossible strength and speed. Tifa leapt back before her opponent could counter, almost losing her balance on the narrow steps.

"Sephiroth!" That was Zack, entering the room behind her. The SOLDIER with the silver hair didn't acknowledge the other man. He turned back to the door, and it opened as if in response to his will. Without a backwards glance, Sephiroth disappeared into the Jenova chamber. Before Tifa could follow, Zack rushed to her side, putting one gloved hand on her shoulder. He held the Buster Sword drawn and ready in his other hand. "I told you to wait." He sounded angry.

Tifa couldn't meet the young man's gaze. "You don't understand," she said. "What he did…"

"I saw what he did!" Zack snapped. "You're not going to get justice for them by charging in and getting yourself killed. Now… Stay. Here." Tifa glared at him, but couldn't quite meet his eyes. He waited a moment to gauge if his words had any effect, then ran off after Sephiroth.

Over the thrumming and throbbing of the Mako reactor's machinery, she heard Zack shouting at the other man, heard the low, indistinct sound of the madman's answers. There was a crash and then the unmistakable noise of weapons clashing. Tifa knew she should go and help Zack, wished she could go after him and take her enemy down, but she didn't move. She couldn't move. Her rage had retreated into some far corner of her mind and now fear held sway. Behind her eyelids, she could see Sephiroth fighting off monsters with no apparent effort, watched him destroy Nibelheim and its inhabitants in minutes, felt him wrench the Masamune from her with irresistible force.

He couldn't be human.

With a cry of pain, Zack's body soared through the still-open door under the "Jenova" placard. He slammed into one of the pods, rebounded, and staggered forward, making it back to the metal stairs before falling to his face. His limbs twitched, but it was clear he was out of the fight. From beyond the door, there was a heavy clang as the Buster Sword fell to the floor past the threshold. Tifa stared at the dark-haired First, her breathing loud in her ears.

Zack had failed.

There was no one left.

No one but her.

On wobbly knees, Tifa advanced. She didn't know what she was doing. If Sephiroth had defeated Zack – another First-Class SOLDIER – in a matter of minutes, what chance did a lowly Third like her have? Part of her wanted to just give up. The general had won. There was nothing she could do. But when she dragged her eyes away from Zack's fallen form, she imagined she saw the small figure of a little blond boy, eight or nine years old, standing near the doorway. His blue eyes regarded her with seriousness belying his age.

She remembered the last time she had seen those eyes, when she was clinging desperately to the boy's hand, struggling to pull him up onto the ledge where the rope bridge had once been secured. He had followed her onto Mount Nibel, seen the bridge she was on unravelling, and shoved her to the other side of the chasm just before it collapsed. He had saved her, though he was too slow to get to safety himself. Tifa had turned in time to catch him, but she was young, weak, frightened. His little hand had slipped from hers, and she had watched in horror as he fell, his somber gaze fixed on her until he crashed to the ground.

Overcome with anguish at her failure, Tifa had given up, not wanting to live with what she had just witnessed, what she had just allowed to happen. It had been so easy. She just leaned forward and followed Cloud down into the pit. Only she had survived with nothing worse than skinned knees. The little boy who saved her life was dead.

Dead because she was weak.

"Tifa…" Zack's voice was rough with pain. Blood ran down his face and one arm. "Just run… you can't beat him."

He was right. But she wouldn't give up again. Not this time. With new purpose in her steps, the fifteen-year-old marched through the door into the chamber beyond. The Mako smell – already almost overwhelming – was much worse here, thick enough to taste. More massive pipes and tubes cast deep shadows around the edges of the sepulchral room, but a brightly lit cylinder filled with liquid was at the center. Nested within the clear solution was a bizarre being unlike anything Tifa had ever seen. Parts of it seemed human, especially its face with its long, silvery hair. But its torso terminated in a massive, pulsing organ, like a human heart, complete with ventricles trailing from its underside. On its back were two fleshy, wing-like structures.

Standing in front of the tube and the creature within, Sephiroth was gloating, leaning against the glass in complete satisfaction. "At last, Mother," he said. "It's time for us."

Her enemy was distracted. Tifa took hold of the Buster Sword, which had lodged itself blade-down into the floor, and lifted it with as little noise as she could. With her Mako-enhanced strength, the giant weapon felt lighter than she had imagined it would. Nonetheless, she gripped it with both hands and crept up the strange conduit, which was stiff with the sluggish flow of red ichor, up to where Sephiroth stood. She could see now the platform they were on was suspended thirty meters above the emerald river of Mako energy processed through the reactor. One wrong step would send her plummeting to a certain death far below. Not even daring to breathe, the young girl drew the sword back, then shoved it forward with all her might.

The glass cylinder cracked. A few bubbles floated up from where the edge of the Buster Sword had broken the material. Sephiroth let out a gasp, a grunt of pain, leaning more heavily against the clear wall of Jenova's prison. He looked down to see the broad blade of the Zack's weapon and Angeal's before that sticking through his side.

"Never again," Tifa hissed. She backed away, sickened by what she had done. The silver-haired monster's knees buckled, and he crumpled against the tube, his gloved hands squeaking against the glass. But then, impossibly, he stood again and _turned towards her_. She had cut him almost in half, and he was still moving, still functional. She backed away, primal dread turning her blood to ice water, making her slow and stiff.

The Masamune rose and fell. She was too slow bringing up the Buster Sword to block. A line of agony, like fire, raced down her torso, from shoulder to hip. Blood spurted from the wound, soaking her shredded SOLDIER uniform instantly. The sound that slipped from her parted lips was less of pain that it was of confusion. Tifa stumbled back off the conduit, losing her balance and dropping to one knee, lifting an arm to her chest as if she could hold in her organs so easily.

For a moment, Sephiroth stood before her, sword in hand, silhouetted by the lights illuminating Jenova's prison. He looked like an avenging angel ready to strike her down. The illusion was broken when he stepped forward unsteadily and she could see the terrible wound she had inflicted on him. His teeth were bared and his green eyes with their vertical-slit pupils glared at her with hatred and rage.

"It doesn't end here," he said, and Tifa took minor satisfaction hearing the strain in his voice. "Not at the hand of someone like you." Sephiroth spun, his sword slashing through the cracked central tube, shattering the material and sending a rain of glass shards and clear fluid arcing through the chamber. At first, she thought he was attempting to free Jenova from its prison, but no… he leaned forward to grab the head of the creature and tore it off the main body with a sickening sound.

"Wh-what are you…?" Tifa's words were faint, and the very effort of speaking re-ignited the fiery agony of her wound.

The silver-haired madman looked over his shoulder, a pained smile on his face. He cradled the head of Jenova to his chest. "Now we'll be together… Mother. As we should be." As Tifa watched in disbelief, he stepped off the edge of the platform and dropped into the pit beneath them. She leaned over the edge to see his dark form vanish into the actinic green glow of the Lifestream running underneath them.

No one could survive that.

"It… it's over," Tifa mumbled, delirious with pain and exhaustion. The monster was gone. Tears gathered in her crimson eyes, trickling down her dirty cheeks. It was small consolation. Her father was dead. Claudia Strife was dead. Nibelheim was destroyed. And she would soon join the townspeople. The girl struggled to get back to her feet. She had no plan, she simply didn't want to die in the presence of Jenova. A few staggering steps brought her out to the staircase, but she missed her footing, dizzy with blood loss, and fell, landing on her chest on the metal stairs near Zack's prone body.

The sensation was indescribable, an explosion of pain making her vision go white. When she lost consciousness a moment later, it was a relief.

* * *

_"I don't remember a lot after that. Afterwards, I learned a team of Shinra scientists had found Zack and I and taken us to a lab somewhere. It probably saved my life, but it was hard to be grateful. In the brief periods of consciousness, I was locked in an observation tube, submerged in distilled Mako. Zack was in a similar device next to mine. Time passed. I didn't know how much until later, but…" Tifa looked away, jaw set._

_Aerith's question was quiet. "How long?"_

_"Almost five years," Tifa said, grim. "They stole five years of my life. They would have taken more, but Zack broke out of his prison and rescued me. I was… all kinds of messed up. From the Mako and whatever else they had done to me."_

_"Most of what happened between breaking out and… and when I reached Midgar is a blur. Zack had to drag me most of the way. We traveled by night, and, once, he disappeared for a long time. When he came back, he seemed somber, as if something had happened, but he didn't tell me what he had done."_

_"Eventually, he found us a ride to Midgar in the back of an old pickup truck. I was starting to come around by then, though I wasn't much good for conversation. Zack didn't talk much about Sephiroth or Nibelheim, which I appreciated. He was too busy making plans for the future. Had some crazy idea about us becoming mercenaries." Tifa let out a brief chuckle. "He mentioned he had a place he could stay, but then he realized the mother lived there, too." Aerith smiled sadly at that._

_It was difficult for Tifa to continue. Cissnei pushed herself away from the wall, uncrossing her arms. "Shinra knew the samples taken in Nibelheim had escaped and went after them. First it was just the army, then the Turks. We didn't know who the 'samples' were until I found them. I didn't report what I had seen." The woman in the black suit glanced at Aerith. "Believe it or not, I was trying to help Zack. I'd worked with him before, several times, and it wasn't my intention to give him back to Hojo and his scientists."_

_No one spoke for a minute until Tifa forced herself to end the story. "The army found us first."_

Zack was speaking urgently, pulling at her arm, tugging her out from the uncomfortable metal bed of the truck they had been riding in for what seemed like days. Around them was a rocky wasteland, barren of life. Above them was a blue sky dotted with a few distant white clouds. Where were they? Tifa shook her head, trying to clear the ever-present fog which seemed to have taken permanent residence in her thoughts. Mako addiction, Zack had said. From her time in the lab. The lab they had escaped from.

Escaped. The word sharpened her thoughts somewhat. They were escaping. Running from… who?

"What's going on?" she slurred.

The dark-haired First threw her left arm over his shoulder, taking her weight against him, walking them away from the dirty blue-green truck, which rumbled away in a shower of gravel as soon as they were clear. "It's the Shinra army. They caught up."

It was a struggle to make sense of his explanation, her mind still slow and murky. "How… many?"

"Not enough to stop us," Zack said, throwing her a grin. The angle she was viewing his face seemed wrong somehow. He wasn't leaning down or crouching to look her in the eyes. Had she grown… taller? Then she remembered something her friend had told her in the depths of her sickness. Five years. Nausea turned her stomach. Five years of her life gone. She looked down at herself and saw a stranger. A taller, bustier body. A woman's body, despite her long sojourn in the observation tube. Whatever they had done to her in the lab ( _don't think about it_ , she commanded herself), the Mako submersion had kept her muscles from atrophying. She was wearing a new uniform, one without the tear from Sephiroth's sword, and she felt almost nothing from the wound she had suffered but a slight stiffness.

As the revelations and memories stacked up in her head, she realized Zack was lying to her. She tried and failed to push herself off the young man, to walk on her own. "Lemme' go," she said, still having trouble speaking properly. "I can help… fight them off."

"Don't be stubborn, Tifa," Zack said. "You can barely stand. I'll take care of it, then I'll be back for you."

They had reached a rock outcropping and he was trying to sit her down on the shadowed side. "Stop treating me like a child," Tifa said. Her words were clearer this time. "I'm a SOLDIER, too."

Zack threw her a tight smile. "That you are. But you've done more than enough." Her strength was returning and she struggled against him. The smile vanished and he sighed. "Why don't you ever listen to me?" He raised a hand and chopped it into the side of her neck. The young woman went limp and dropped to the sandy ground, her vision going dark.

She knew nothing more.

* * *

Tifa groaned in her fitful slumber, curling around the old wound in her abdomen, the terrible slash Sephiroth had inflicted on her back in Nibelheim. She was trapped in the cyclical nightmare she had been experiencing for what seemed an eternity, the movie that had played behind her eyelids the entire time she had been held in the laboratory and after. It was a slide show of failure, starting from when she was a child of eight and running right up until today when Zack had subdued her, knocking her out to keep her from fighting at his side.

Her crimson eyes snapped open. That was several hours ago. The sky was dark above her now, gray clouds forming a ragged blanket across the wide-open sky. Thunder rumbled and rain pattered steadily against the ground. Maybe those were the noises that had awakened her. She had mistaken them for gunfire and explosions. Where was Zack?

Weakly, the female SOLDIER rose to her feet and staggered from her hiding spot, feet dragging in the mud and water of the wasteland. Beyond the end of the ridge on which she wandered, she saw Midgar, glowing in the darkening twilight, a beacon of light and progress. A lie. A den of monsters.

She lowered her gaze from the city and blinked, noticing the hellish sight at her feet. There were bodies everywhere. Shinra soldiers. What the hell had happened? Glowing eyes scanned back and forth over the carnage, looking for Zack, her heart pounding in her chest. It almost stopped entirely when she found him. He was lying on his back, staring up into the sky with a melancholy expression, the huge sword he had inherited from his mentor Angeal Hewley at his side.

His chest was riddled with bullet holes and his blood streamed away with the rainwater.

Tifa broke into a stumbling run. "Zack!" She dropped to her knees next to him, heedless of the blood and the mud. Was he already…?

But no, he took what looked like a deep, painful breath, as if drawing life into his body by sheer force of will. His blue eyes focused on her and he managed a small smile. "Tifa…" he breathed. "I'm glad you're safe… One of us made it."

The female SOLDIER bit her lip, shaking her head in denial of what she was seeing. "Shut up. You're gonna' make it through this, too, Zack. You survived fighting Sephiroth. This is nothing." She began patting her uniform, searching for medicine, for materia, for bandages, anything that might help.

"No, it's… it's okay." Zack breathed in again, a sharp, agonized inhale. "I lived my dreams. I kept my honor. And you're alive. There are worse ways to go."

"It's not okay!" Tifa shouted. "I can't let this happen again… I can't let someone else die for me." She was crying now, her whole body shaking.

The dying SOLDIER quirked a pained half-smile. "It's… not up to you. Everyone is free to make their own choice. Sometimes the price of freedom is high." Slowly, his right hand closed around the handle to the Buster Sword. He lifted it and held it out to her, raising his head to meet her gaze. "You've got your whole life ahead of you still. Do big things. And remember… your pride… as SOLDIER."

Numbly, Tifa closed her fist around the long hilt of the massive sword. Zack's smile broadened for a moment, then it slipped. His head dropped, and one final breath escaped from his limp body.

He was dead.

"No," Tifa murmured, shaking her head back and forth. "No, no, no, no, I can't do this again. This… this is too much." She grasped the buster sword in both hands now, huddled over the dead body of the man who had given his life to protect her.

Because she was still too weak to save herself.

She lifted her head to the gray sky and screamed until her voice gave out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Phew... that was a long one. So, this chapter was kind of strange to write. The Nibelheim incident is the JFK assassination of Final Fantasy VII (in that it's the event that's had the most scrutiny applied to it). We have three independent ways of viewing the scene: The original game, Crisis Core, and the "Last Order" OVA. I ended up going with a combination of all three (the scene of Sephiroth willingly leaping into the Lifestream is from "Last Order", for example). Anyways, you'd think with this much material to work with, the chapter would write itself, but it didn't work that way at all. This was the most difficult chapter I've had to write yet, and definitely the longest.
> 
> I did decide to reveal most of the information I was holding back regarding the accident which killed Cloud, as well as including Zack's death. Unlike Cloud in the canon, Tifa has not buried those memories, so there's no reason she wouldn't reveal the information at this time. Probably the most difficult part of the chapter was squaring the circle of having Tifa fulfill both her role and Cloud's. She's a more emotional character than Cloud, and - in this reality - also physically stronger. Not that that would help her at all against Sephiroth.


End file.
